


Between the Roots and Leaves (is where you'll find me)

by Stella_Lost



Category: Supernatural RPS
Genre: Accident, Angst, M/M, and act of nature (all non-graphic), description of an act of nature – tornado, mention of past OC death(s) due to suicide, mention of past abuse of power by someone in an authoritative position, mention of past homophobia, schmoop.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 15:38:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 72,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stella_Lost/pseuds/Stella_Lost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the past five years, 26 year-old Jensen Ackles has found work wherever the wind has blown him; bartender, cowboy, farmhand, oilfield worker, tree counter, anything really, as long as it keeps food in his belly and his old Ford rolling down the dirty blacktop highways. Moreover, in all those years he has been able to avoid any place that reminds him of what he has left behind. However, when a tornado rips through Solace, Texas, where his friend Jim Beaver retired to operate a pecan orchard, Jensen pushes the fear away and heads south. He doesn't know it, but his life is about to become a whirlwind that even Mother Nature would be envious of . . .</p>
<p>Disclaimer: The characters within this work of fiction belong to Wonderland Sound and Vision, The CW, and Eric Kripke. No profit is expected or even desired for its creation. I just like to take the pretties out and pose them a bit, really. You know, dress them up or in most cases, undress them and then make them act out fantasies. It was written for a bit of fun and that is all. No harm is intended to these fine actors and actresses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue & Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 2012 SPN-J2-BigBang and is my first attempt at a BigBang. Writing this has been both brilliant and terrifying, often both at the same time, but if you ask me to do it again, I would readily sign up! 
> 
> A quick thanks to smalltrolven, who answered my plea for a beta without even realizing what she was in for with me. Thank you for sticking with me whenever I freaked out and threatened to quit nearly weekly and for her supreme beta-ing skills. Thanks, also for always holding my hand and making me open my eyes before I jumped. I couldn’t have done it without you! You’re the bestest! We’ll have to do it again real soon . . .say, what are you doing for next years BB? (LOL!)
> 
> And a resounding Thank YOU! To bad_peppermint . We met as she was trying to move her fic forward and I was trying to ignore mine and I know without a doubt that this fic would never have seen the light of day without her guidance, constant cheerleading, and absolutely stupendous beta-ing. Thanks for leaving your comfort zone for me and I PROMISE that JDM will not be misused or abused in my next story. You have my word, Sweets! Thanks again.
> 
> Thank you to wendy & thehighwaywoman over at spn_j2_bigbang for hosting and moderating this wonderful challenge that gives author’s, artist’s and reader’s alike, a home to come celebrate the fabulousness that is Supernatural. 
> 
> Thanks also to paleogymnast, & slightlysatanic, the mods over at omgspnbigbang. 
> 
> And lastly and decidedly not least, I fretted during art claims, fearful that what I had written was so dreadful that no artist would want to claim it. But the extremely talented and ever so brilliant lamapan claimed my fic and made some wonderful and absolutely beautiful art to accompany it. Her work is amazing and made this project at least two hundred times better than it originally was, so a huge THANKS to her. Please! I implore you to visit her LJ page and witness her fabulous work. And remember to leave her the comments and praise she so richly deserves. Thanks, lamapan, your art is truly exquisite and you’ve been such a pleasure to work with. I hope we can do it again someday.

[](http://imgur.com/zbbG8)

****

 

**24 th of December, 2001**

There was a trio of guys fresh from the oil fields up north seated at the bar. Their skin perpetually stained a mottled brownish-black with the grime of a life spent toiling in the soil for the lifeblood of the auto industry. Their clothes weren’t much better. Occasionally, one of them would wander to the jukebox in the corner and feed it enough cash to treat the other patrons to another hour or so of the standards of roughneck country.

 

Hank Williams, Jr., Steve Earle, and Johnny Paycheck, hell, they all seemed to blend together in Jensen Ackles’ mind. Singing about hard loving, simple joys, and the rough and tumble life of the blue-collar man. About every twenty songs, give or take a few, the sweet, high voice of Dolly Parton or Loretta Lynn, would steal into the mix and turn the maudlin crew just that much more forlorn.

 

There was a television mounted above the bar was showing a grainy Dallas against Tennessee match-up. Between the dust clinging to the screen and the reflection from the ancient Hamm’s Beer sign, it was hard to make out the score of the game. Last time Jensen came back from the john, he noticed that the Cowboys had still been scoreless against the Titans.

 

Taking a pull from the rapidly warming beer on the bar in front of him, Jensen rocked uneasily on his stool. It felt like his ass was taking on the shape of the uneven, unpadded, worn wooden seat. Two of the men at the bar groaned over some play from the TV, while the third started to laugh before breaking into a phlegm-filled cough. Jensen craned his neck to see the replay, but found his eyes drawn to the number of fly remains in the bottom of the dim light.

 

“Merry Christmas, Jensen.”

 

The hand gripped the top of his shoulder, the same time the deep voice registered in his right ear. He swallowed hard, causing his throat to protest in a cough. He glanced at the barflies, but not a single eye had turned his way.

 

“Shit, sorry, boy.” Jim Beaver gave him a few solid whacks in the center of his back. Those hurt nearly as bad as the choking.

 

Eyes watering, Jensen turned and sent a sour look at his sometime-employer and friend. “Jim,” he hacked out through his tightened throat.

 

“Tell me you haven’t been here all day.” Jim said, removing Jensen’s beat-up ball cap from the seat of the stool next to the younger man and sliding onto it. He tossed the hat up onto the bar, nodding at the stoic man behind it. “I told you, you were more than welcome to join me at mine.”

 

Jensen waited until the bartender placed two new longnecks in front of them and walked away before replying. “Nah. Did first shift with Buck and Ray and then met up with Jimmy over at the Flying J for the all-you-can-eat.”

 

“Yeah? Anything good?” Jim asked, taking a long pull from his beer.

 

“The usual. Good pie, though. I had apple, pumpkin, cherry, and snagged a piece of pecan to go. How ‘bout over at Bob’s?” Jensen knew that Jim  didn’t have the same selection to choose from, so rubbing it in a little, made him feel a little better about spending his second Christmas in a row at a truck stop restaurant.

 

“Dry bird, wet stuffin’, and these things that Bertie swears is sweet potatoes, but they’re slimy and taste like burnt caramel. Ain’t never been a dish that woman didn’t kill. Pumpkin pie was edible enough, though.” Jensen felt his friend’s eyes on him as he systematically destroyed the damp cardboard coaster in front of him. “Somethin’ on your mind, boy?”

 

Jensen had been invited to Bob and Roberta Beaver’s for the holiday; by not only Jim, but also by Bertie with her bleeding lipstick and bleached hair. But the thought of spend a holiday, any holiday, with a family that wasn’t his . . . well, it left the hollow pit in his gut a bit more gaping for some time after. He had spent the first Easter after he met Jim with the Beavers’, but after being nearly force fed too-sweet ham and runny scalloped potatoes while being quizzed about his own family, Jensen always found a way to be busy on every single holiday since.

 

“Um, no?” Jensen muttered before pushing his warm beer away and sipping from the colder one that Jim had bought him. “Just tired. Got up at four to make the rounds around the feed lot, you know.”

 

“Yeah? Well at least you got out of the fields this year.  Why the hell you ever went to work up there is beyond me. Sure, this country needs the oil, but –“

 

“Not a working for those guys anymore, Jim.” Jensen interrupted his friends’ ire for the oil fields. Let him get wind in his sails and he could go on forever about the raping of the land and the pillaging of Mother Nature. It was the standard argument between the oilman and the farmer that Jim liked to get into when he was feeling rowdy.

 

Jensen cast an eye towards the grubby trio under the TV, before turning his gaze back to the red-faced man next to him. Seemed to him that Jim had a bit more than the usual trimmings today. “Besides, I just did it so I could pay you for that beauty parked outside.”

 

“Bullshit.” Jim countered. “You did it, because you think that it would piss your folks off, if they knew. The truck had nothin’ to do with it. Besides, you still owe me about $700 for that amazin’ piece of American ingenuity.”

 

“It’s a Ford, Beaver. Not a hovercraft.” Jensen snarked lightly, leaning back to shove a hand into his pocket. “And it’s $600 . . .wait, no . . .$550, old man.” He pulled two twenties and a pair of fives from the small wad of bills in his pocket and slapped them down in front of Jim. He grinned at his friend, but felt his joy lessen at the serious look on Jim’s face.

 

“So, uh . . . Jensen, I’ve been thinkin’.” Jim killed off his beer and motioned for the bartender to set them up again. “You know how I went down to Texas last month?”

 

Jensen felt the warmth of the beer in his belly start to chill and curdle. He nodded once.

 

“So, yeah. I think I’m gonna do it, boy. Buy that place down there. It’s not much, just a couple hundred acres of farmland and roughly five hundred acres of pecans. But it would be all mine. Get some cattle; take Misty and Ramble down there. Them two horses would probably like some heat on their old bones. Who knows, might be good for my old joints as well.” Jim lifted the new bottle of beer to his lips and looked questioningly at his young friend. “So what do ya think? Wanna head to Texas, boy?”

 

Jensen slipped the fresh coaster from beneath his bottle and set about breaking it apart. He could already feel the loneliness start to bleed through his lungs, making each breath a little shorter. He had only known Jim Beaver for about a year and half now, but he respected the man. Jim taught him to work with cattle, to drive a tractor, to ride a horse properly; Jim was the father figure he wanted, no, needed in his life. He would charge hell with only a half-full bucket of water in his honor. But go to Texas?

 

Jensen had been born in Texas, just outside of Dallas, in Richmond. His family had moved to the suburbs outside of Chicago when he was eleven years old. So much had changed since then. He had changed. Those were his roots back in Texas and while he didn’t think he would run into anyone that would remember him in Texas, did he want to be that close to the memories? What he had lost along the way? The ghosts of his former life haunted him daily, was he strong enough to face them on their turf?

 

“I don’t know, Jim.” He replied softly. “I don’t know if I can.”

 

Jim just hummed and slid his own coaster closer to Jensen’s destructive fingers. They sat in silence until the sounds of Johnny Cash overtook them.

 

 

 

**19 th January, 2003**

The breeze from quick feet hurrying too close to his own, caused the thin cotton of the borrowed scrubs to whisper against his bare ankles, but the chill Jared felt, the real chill was blooming deep inside him. It was twisting itself through his veins, winding recklessly, frigidly through his lean frame; feeding on the unknown as it settled and took root in his internal organs. The soft cloth of the scrubs ruffled again as someone passed him in his seat right next to the wide corridor.

 

Flexing his lower back, Jared tried to ease some of the tension that was settling in his hips as they attempted to take on the form of the cracked cushion of the plastic waiting room bench. Someone had gently pushed him to sit here when his examination was done and he had changed clothes. It seemed like hours ago and since he hadn’t spotted a clock on any of the walls, he was going to have to tell time with the growing aches in his body.

 

He shifted minutely and the cushion pinched at the back of his thigh. Time was playing tricks on him. It sped up and whirled through his mind before slamming to a stop. Over and over it went.

 

Leaning forward, Jared rested his elbows on his knees and let his hands dangle between them. His eyes traced the myriad of cuts that crisscrossed his tanned skin. There was a longer cut that ran from the webbing between his thumb and index finger on his left hand; it traced halfway across the back of his hand before twisting back and curving around his wrist. It wasn’t serious enough for stitches, but there were several butterfly bandages holding the jagged edges together.

 

He heard a woman across the room from him crying, a man’s voice murmured gently along with the broken gasps. Jared knew who she was, but he was fearful of trying to offer her or her husband any comfort. He also knew that they would only offer him the same courtesy of a cold shoulder and silent anguish, if he approached them at all.

 

A call over the hospital PA system caused her tears to turn to choked sobs. Warmth slid across his cheeks, not from a blush, but following the heated paths of his tears as they continually wound a course down past his empiric nose to the edge of his cracked lips. There, the moisture found a detour around the light stubble to his chin and ultimately to drip to the floor at his feet. He had given up trying to count the drops a while ago.

 

None of this would have happened, if he hadn’t wanted to celebrate the start of their last semester at school. But it did. Saving up from his part-time jobs, using coupons, gift cards and Christmas money, Jared had surprised Drew with a two-day getaway to Dallas.

 

There wasn’t enough money for room service, but a quick trip to the grocery store and a massive barbeque meal last night, and they were set.

 

They barely left the room.

 

Now in the waning afternoon hours of a cold, icy Sunday, Jared was trapped in a sterile hospital waiting room listening to two people that didn’t like him as they cried for their injured son.

 

Jared felt his cell vibrate once, before it turned to a muted jingling emitting from the plastic bag on the bench next to his hip. The bag was what remained of his clothes; torn and stained dark in the aftermath on Highway 35.

 

Though his eyes were still concentrating on the network of mottled grey blobs of the linoleum under the slim plastic slippers the nurse had slid on him, he could feel the deadened eyes of the rooms’ other patrons as they seemingly attempted to flay his skin from his flesh. Of course, that could be the painkiller the doctor had given him, producing that imagery. Or he was just remembering the morning.

 

The cell had stopped its bleating as he mentally shook himself into consciousness. Clearing his throat, Jared cast a quick glance across the room to Mr. and Mrs. Monroe. He knew Drew would be mad at him for not going over there to be with them, but Drew wasn’t here, he was down the hall, behind the door marked ‘Hospital Personnel Only’.

 

The phone in the bag came to life again. Forgoing the time it would take to pry open the knot on top, Jared pulled at the plastic until it stretched obscenely and gave up its strength. Forcing his mind to ignore the damp patches his hand encountered, he felt around until his long fingers closed over the slim form of the Samsung phone that Drew had gotten him for Christmas.

 

A throat was cleared across from him. Sighing inwardly, Jared flipped the phone open as he stood awkwardly; his bruised muscles defiant against the motion, and shuffled in his borrowed shoes towards the nurses’ desk.

 

“Just a sec . . .” his voice, raspy from yelling for so long earlier and now hours of disuse, murmured across the line.

 

A nurse with kind brown eyes pointed towards the exit. Her lips were tilted up in a sympathetic smile.

“Hello?” Jared asked as he pushed through the doors to find himself outside the building completely.

 

“JT? Honey? Your momma just called me. You okay, baby?” Jared slumped against the wall as his grandmother’s worried tone bled warmth into his body. If anyone could make this nightmare better it was her.

 

“I . . .I don’t know, grandma. I don’t know what’s happening. They . . . they took Drew into . . . into surgery when we got here. I don’t know how long ago.” He fought against the knot of emotion in his throat. “The . . . The Monroe’s are here.”

 

“Oh, JT.” He could practically feel the sympathy in her voice, it was that tangible. She knew the struggle that he and Drew had in dealing with his boyfriend’s disapproving parents. “Do you want me to come over? They’ve cleared most of the roads, and I – “

 

“No!” Jared knew he shouldn’t snap at her, but if he lost her, too . . . “I don’t want you driving, Grandma.”

 

“Baby, it’s okay, I could get Sam or Jim . . . I just think that you need somebody there with _you_.”

 

“What about Grandpa? I . . . No. I’ll be okay. I’m okay. Drew . . .” Jared gulped back a sob, “Drew will be okay. Okay? I kept him going until the ambulance . . .” His voice trailed off with a small whimper.

 

“Jared. Let your family be there for you. Let us help.” Jared heard the plea for what it was, a show of love and strength. The woman that had always been one of his strongest and most adamant supporters; she was the iron that kept his spine straight in the face of adversity. It wasn’t often that he had to fall back to relying on someone else, but when it did happen, it was always his grandma that saw him through. Elinor Padalecki never backed down in the face of adversity and for that he was grateful.

 

“I . . . just don’t know what to do, Memaw.” It had been a long time since he used his childhood nickname for her, but right now . . . well, right now, he would use the blanket of familiar happy memories to see him through. “I love him, so much . . . and I . . . I don’t know how to help.”

 

He broke then. Gone were the silent, solitary tears. Now they rolled rapidly down his face, crashing into and absorbing one another as they collected at his chin and fell to mingle with the light splotches from the misty afternoon sky.

 

Jared didn’t know how long he stood huddled against that wall, sobbing into the phone, but after a while, the nurse with the kind eyes came out, wrapped a thin blanket around his shoulders and led him back to his bench in the waiting room.

 

***

 

The sound of wet, rubber soles on clean linoleum woke Jared from his uneasy slumber on the narrow bench and soon a feathery touch glided across his cheek.

 

“Drew?” He was scared to open his eyes; to see how bad Drew had fared in the accident.

 

“No, baby. It’s Memaw. I – “ Jared’s eyes popped open and took in the tired, but loving face of his grandmother. Behind her shoulder stood her neighbor, Jim Beaver, with his hat in his hands. Jim gave him a brief nod before Jared was engulfed in his grandma’s hug. The tears that he thought were gone came back with force and he buried his face in the smaller woman’s shoulder and cried like he did when he was boy and his brother was throwing pecans from the orchard at him.

 

“Shhh . . . It’ll be alright, JT. Memaw’s here and we’ll make it alright.” He felt her lips against the crown of his head as she kept whispering that it was going to be okay. Her gentle hand kept sweeping up and down the length of his back. “I’m not leaving; it’ll be alright, honey.”

 

That is how the doctor found them all sometime later. The Monroe’s across the room, wrapped around one another, Jim settled uneasily into a chair somewhere in the middle, leafing through a dog-eared copy of Glamour, and Jared slumped against his Grandma’s shoulder; her left arm holding him tightly at the waist, her right hand smoothing over the tiny cuts on his hands.

 

That is when Jared discovered that it wasn’t going to be alright. It would never be alright, ever again. And it was never going to be alright because Drew was never going to walk out of those doors.

 

No. Drew, the center of his world, the man that believed in him, trusted him, supported him; the only man he ever loved, the man he wanted to marry someday, was gone. His body laid somewhere beyond those doors only doctors and nurses could go. Too broken and too damaged to fix. Jared somehow knew, right at that moment, that he would come to understand the feeling.

 

He watched Mrs. Monroe, Cathy, his mind supplied, as she wailed uncontrollably into her husband’s chest, Dave, Jared’s lips silently formed his name.

 

Jared sensed, rather than felt Jim, as the weathered man settled next his side and placed a strong hand on his knee.

 

He heard a his grandmother clear her throat lightly beside him as her soft, yet sturdy hand worked its way in between his roughed up ones.

 

“You can come home, JT. If you want that is.” He turned and watched the light tears get lost in the tiny lines of her aged skin. “You can always come home to Solace.”

 

**Chapter 1**

**27th of February, 2005**

“Alright, Noah. Last stop on the Padalecki Express.” Jared swung the little dark-haired boy down from the booster seat in the back of the king cab truck. Tucking his tongue behind his teeth, he let out a rather realistic neigh, which set the boy into his own giggling version of a horse’s whinny.

Jared grinned at the little boy as he galloped around the tufts of dried grass in the gravel alleyway; his tiny boots kicking up light clouds of dust. His nephew’d weathered more than a few things in his mere four and a half years, but he was still an energetic and well- tempered boy.

“Gonna show Cornflakes to G.G.?” He nodded to the new plastic palomino horse with the flowing mane and tail clutched tightly in Noah’s hands. He’s been accused of spoiling his nephew, but the way he saw it, he would never have children of his own, so it was his job to spoil away.

“Frosted Flakes, Uncle Jay. Not Cornflakes.”

Noah’s scowl made his smile grow. Swinging the boy up on his hip, he strode to the screen door at the kitchen entrance of the family diner and pulled it open.

“Frosted Flakes, you say? Well, okay, if you insist.” He pondered in a voice loud enough to carry through the kitchen and into the dining room, signaling his grandmother that she was soon going to be bombarded by a hyper little boy. “Tell G.G., that I’m going to unload the boxes and then I had better get home to do the chores.”

Setting the boy down at the back entrance to the kitchen, he waited until he heard Sam’s addressing the little boy with a “hey handsome, come here often?” before he headed back to the truck to start unloading.

Samantha Ferris had worked at his family’s diner for as long as he could remember. She was as sweet as his grandma’s butter pecan syrup, but could be ruthlessly blunt when the occasion called for it. Sam was at least ten years older than he, but in the past few years, she had become like the older sister he never had; helping him to grow more thoughtful in his dealings with others, counseling him with his seemingly constant search for a happy medium, being that shoulder to cry on in his grief. 

Yeah, Sam, Jared thought with a smirk, all the handsome men come to see you; he hefted the first load of boxes from the back of his big red Ford 250 and turned towards the back step. And they always have, it’s just Sam just lets a soft smile find its way onto her usually stoic face and a gentle hand on their shoulder as she sends them on their way. He knows that she believes in love and based on the fact that she has a daughter close to his age, she must have been in love for at least once. Or something awfully close to it.

Setting the load down, he let his musings about Sam’s love life drift from his mind. Jared knew that if he dwelt on the current romantic affairs of anyone he knew, it would just lead to thinking about the miserable state of his own love life . . . or lack thereof. 

***

The sun was warm against his shoulders as Jared set the last two cases of empty bottles from the bed of the truck onto the back porch. Stretching his arms high above his head, he felt a couple vertebra pop into place. He propped the back door open and started carrying the boxes down to the basement to the sounds of Noah and Sam singing Old MacDonald, animal sounds and all.

Soon the clinking bottles would be filled with all sorts of delicious wonderments that his grandma had spent her life perfecting.

The pecan delights came in several forms, from pralines and syrup to candies and pies. Row upon row of gleaming bottles were stocked on the shelves in the basement and nearly as many more on the glossy wood shelves in the diner; polished nearly daily, in hopes that any tourists would want to take home a tasty souvenir of their visit to East Texas. And that was not to mention the homemade hot sauces, jellies and jams, oh, and salsa. Aw, the salsa, damn, now his mouth was watering as he schlepped another stack of boxes down the steps.

There were also a few hand hewn whistles and boxes on those shelves as well, crafted by his granddaddy before his death a few years ago; each one from a fallen pecan tree from the orchard they once owned. 

Jared almost felt bad when those didn’t sell. Almost. They were carved and varnished beautifully. But, in the end, every day they didn’t get bought, was another day that he got to see them and remember the gruff, yet lovable old man that he had idolized since he was boy not much bigger than Noah.

On his third trip back to the top of the stairs, Jared couldn’t miss the unbelievably savory smell of his grandmother’s roast beef and vegetable dinner coming from the kitchen. His stomach twisted up in hunger, giving a growl of protest as he grabbed more crates and hurried down the stairs. Breakfast had been hours ago; before his morning chores and before a trip to Dallas and back.

Picking up the pace, he took the steps two at a time on the way up, only to almost knock into his grandmother at the top.

“Another horse, Jared?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“What?” He asked, purposefully letting a hint of innocence creep into his voice. “He was a good boy today and didn’t complain once all morning. And besides, it’s not like I buy him something every time I take him to town.”

“Just every other time, right?” He watched as a small skirmish played across her delicate features, before settling into a smirk. “Makes me think of another little boy that smiled so pretty and sweet until he got what he wanted.”

“I have no idea who you’re referring to.” He blew his bangs out of his eyes only to have them settle back in their original place.

“That needs cutting.” She reached up a hand and brushed the hair back. “Maybe tonight?”

“Maybe . . .” he hefted another load of crates into his arms and started down the stairs. 

Coming back up the stairs, he found his grandmother out on the back step. Two more loads, he calculated to himself, I can take a break. He stepped out and slid an arm gently across her shoulders.

“Radio says rain tonight.” Jared commented, craning his head down to see beneath the broad branches of the elm tree across the alleyway. “Gonna finish this up and head home to make sure the stock’s taken care of and secured.”

“Could you run the meals out today? Megan was going to, but she didn’t get off until nearly ten this morning and that was a double shift.” Jared cast a worried eye at the tiny woman under his arm. “There’s only four or five. I’ll make sure that Sam throws in an extra serving for you.” 

His grandparents had started a meals-on-wheels program for their tiny town several years ago. When Jared had come to live with them for his senior year of high school, it had been his job to run the meals during his lunch hour at school, a way for him to stay busy and out of trouble; and to keep his mind busy. 

The number of meals delivered had been much higher back then, but then the town seemed to be shrinking; the old folks were passing away or moving to be closer to family and the young were escaping the dead-end life of a small town for the promises made by the bright lights of Dallas, Fort Worth, Austin, and their like.

He wished them luck, all those kids who believed in those twinkling promises, he really did. But he also knew that those promises were nothing more than a play of glimmering luster on smoke and dust. 

Sighing, Jared dropped his eyes to the small woman at his side and waited for her to ask again. It was a silly game that they played with one another. If he said yes right away, she would feel the need to keep asking if he was sure it was okay, but if he waited for her to ask again and he pretended to be put out, then she was pleased that she could convince him into doing whatever she asked. 

They both knew the score, but the little mental tug-of-war was just how these things worked between them. He remembered her using the same tactics on his grandfather way back when.

“You can leave Noah. I’ll bring him and any leftovers home for supper, if you could just run these today. Please?”

He slipped his lips across her forehead, smoothing out the worry lines. “Sure. I just got to get these last two stacks downstairs first, okay?” He gave her shoulders a squeeze and turned back to the job at hand.

~***~~~**~~* Jensen*~~**~~~***~

_The chilled water dribbled from his cupped hand as Jensen shakily lifted it to his lips. The squeak, snap, and hiss of the door behind him, opening and closing, drowned out the sound of the mouth warmed water splashing against the basin._

_“Your mother and I know that you wouldn’t have a part in this, Jensen.”_

_Jensen let his sleep deprived green eyes drift far enough up to catch the bottom of the mirror, which reflected back his fathers’ torso with active hands straightening the dark blue vest covering it. His own hands clutched at the cool ceramic lip of the basin in front of him._

_There was a resigned quality that his dad’s voice seemed to adopt when it was directed at him; Jensen let his eyes drop as he sucked in a shallow breath between his teeth._

_Nobody else ever seemed to notice that tone, but to Jensen, it felt like it had been aimed at him for years. A sort of disappointed what-did-you-do-now and why-can’t-you-be-more-like-Josh mixed with a bit of I-think-more-of-my-students-than-I-do-you aspect._

_The funny thing was, Jensen sighed inwardly, that he couldn’t even pinpoint when he started noticing it; just one day there it was, curling in his ear and swirling into his brain. And sadly, no matter how much better Jensen tried to be, that dispassionate tone clung to him like a shroud of washed-out expectations._

_His father cleared his throat._

_“When you’re in there, the chambers . . .” his father started adjusting the starched white cuffs beneath his suit coat. “Just tell them the truth. I’ve spoke to the athletic director, the student body president, and your professors. Hell, I had a meeting with the Dean yesterday. Nobody believes that you would have a hand in this nonsense. You’re a top student here, excelling not only athletically, but also academically. Just tell the truth and they’ll believe you.”_

_Lifting one last handful of water to his mouth, Jensen twisted off the tap and pulled a few of the rough brown paper towels from the dispenser by his shoulder. He spit roughly before taking a quick swipe at his lips, then set about brusquely drying his hands. He started to turn towards his dad and . . ._

*Bam* 

Startled from the memories of that raw January day six years ago, Jensen lifted his head from the back of the truck seat and glared out the windshield at the maniacal face of Christian Kane as he rounded the front of the truck to the passenger side. He ran a hand through his short brown hair, the pads of his fingers detecting the build-up of sweat and dirt.

“Mail call, fucker.” Kane called out as he wrenched the door open against the gusting frigidity that accompanied nearly every hour of a Wyoming February. He tossed a bundle of letters onto the seat before climbing in and letting the wind shut the door behind him. “Smells like we’re in for more of the white shit.”

Jensen hummed a response as he leafed through the envelopes on the seat. There was something from a bar he had worked at down in Colorado last couple of months, hopefully his last check and the tax form he needed. It would only be a couple of hundred dollars, but it was money that he had earned and to be honest, it was money he really needed. His truck wasn’t going to last the spring if he didn’t start addressing the various rattles and whines in the engine. He slid a thumb under the flap and ripped it open.

$254.70 and the one of the last two W2’s he had been waiting for.

Jensen sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. Now if he could get the last one from Walter’s place over in Nebraska, he was set. Get those taxes done like a good little adult and he hopefully would not have to pay in like he did a couple of years ago.

“Oh, I also ran into Becky Sommers, lookin’ tasty as always. I got our checks, too. So let’s go cash these bitches, grab some grub, and head for the Station. Steve’s covering a shift tonight, so cheap shots.” Chris laughed as punched Jensen lightly in the arm. Jensen’s response was to toss the mail back in his friends lap and twist the key in the ignition. “The band sounds like it might pack ‘em in. Crossland and his Cohorts. They’re from up north somewhere.”

“Becky Sommers, huh? I’m guessing it wasn’t just her old man’s money, you were trying to get.” Jensen cocked an eyebrow at his friend as the engine finally turned over. “What about Shelly?”

“Becky Sommers? I wish . . . nah, she’s too smart for the likes of me,” Chris said, tapping a staccato beat on the dash. “I’ll stick with Shelly. She’s more my speed, anyhow.” It seemed that Chris was nearly always in motion lately; well, since he gave up chewing tobacco cold turkey. “Plus, Becky’s daddy done gave me a warning and since the work has been a bit slow this winter, I figured that I better lay low. No tellin’ when Old’ Man Sommer’s might need some more able bodies. I don’t mind bein’ his beck and call boy, especially not when he pays top dollar.”

Jensen smiled to himself as he turned the truck towards the end of town where the bank was located. Christian Kane may seem like a wild one, drink and carousing in every town that they had ever worked in, but he was a solid guy when it came to work. Jensen knew from the very first time that they had shared a job, that Chris had his back when it came to keeping an eye out for a job.

“You get Steve’s money, too?”

“Yep. He can probably get Mark to cash his tonight.” Chris pulled a pen from the dash and started signing his check. Jensen tried to miss a pothole in the road, but it was big enough that his effort had largely been in vain. Chris scowled as the pen slipped haphazardly across the thin paper of the check. “You staying at his tonight or I can talk Shelly into letting you stay on the sofa.”

Jensen pulled into the line for the drive-thru and popped the truck into neutral. He wasn’t sure where he would end up tonight. Most of the time he slept in the back of the truck, but if the wind didn’t let up and with the air promising snow, well, he’d rather not risk death by exposure. On nights like that he usually ended up on the floor of Steve’s studio apartment above the vacuum repair shop in town, or on a couch at whichever woman’s Chris was leading on at the moment. 

Hell, worse come to worse, Mark Pellegrino, his sometimes employer would let him crash in the tiny storage room behind the bar.

He snagged the pen that Chris was twirling through his fingers and set about signing his own paychecks.

“Don’t know. I’ll let you know after I talk to Steve.” Jensen rolled the truck up to the automated teller box and lowered his window to pull in the canister. Shoving both his and Chris’ signed checks into the canister; he watched it getting sucked back to the main building. Chris sang along with the mournful song on the radio, something about lost chances, as Jensen watched the teller inside crane her neck to see both men in the truck. He attempted a smile, which was not returned and a nod that was.

A few drops of moisture managed to hit the windshield and then streaked liquidly across the glass in the wind. He glanced again at Chris, who was digging through the mail again. Jensen had few friends, guys he could trust, like Chris and Steve Carlson as well as a few more; guys that would allow him to be who he was and not judge him for it.

There were times that he still found himself amazed that this was his life. It wasn’t the one he was groomed for growing-up and it really wasn’t going the way he had expected it go, but it wasn’t horrible. At least he was able to look in the mirror and not completely hate himself. 

Most days, that was.

~***~~~**~~*Jared*~~**~~~***~

After he had finished the deliveries for the diner, Jared kept a lazy eye on the rapidly building storm clouds as he headed back to the farm just a few miles east of town. When he was a boy, the Padalecki farm seemed like it took up most the state. That wasn’t the case anymore. When his granddaddy was alive they ran several hundred head of cattle, a full remuda of horse, some smaller livestock, goats, sheep, chickens and geese, not to mention a several hundred acres and then some, pecan orchard. 

Pulling into the roundabout drive that separated the house from the barn and various other out buildings, Jared contemplated not for the first time just how much work there still was on a farm that had shrunk to nearly half its size in the past several years. He switched off the truck and started for the chicken coop across the drive from the south side of the house.

When his granddaddy first got sick with cancer they had sold a few horses to help with expenses. Then, Mitch, the hired-man left and with no idea on the outcome of the medical treatments, Jared’s grandparents sold off most of the cattle; keeping only enough that between breeding and dairy stock, the diner had its share of beef and milk. 

By the time Jared returned to Solace just two short years ago, to lick his own wounds, his granddaddy was barely hanging on and his grandma sold all but thirty acres of the pecan trees to some cowboy from up north. Something about sinking his roots in sandy soil or some such nonsense, not that it mattered much in the long run. Granddaddy left them barely a year later and then it was just his grandmother and Jared trying to hold it all together.

He finally chased the last clucking hen into the coop and secured the hatch. Straightening to his full 6’5”, Jared started for the manger between the coop and the barn. Placing a large hand on a fencepost, he vaulted over the wooden fence next to the enclosure and started shooing the sheep towards indoors. It wasn’t very hard to convince them to seek shelter, especially when a low roll of thunder started to reverberate off in the distance. The animals twitched at the noise and in what seemed like one massive ball of dingy fluff, made for the safety of four faded blue walls.

Megan had been trying to help since she came to Solace after her divorce, but with a three year-old and a job working mostly nights, it was sometimes a miracle that she could even fit a shower in. Jared delighted in having Noah as a shadow; that was once he got used to someone smaller than the dog trying to keep up with him. 

He thought Jake Crawford, Noah’s daddy was an unmitigated ass. Who couldn’t look at that little boy and not just melt into a pile of goo? Seriously, Megan had had to hold him back from storming out to the truck and driving all the way down to Houston, just to grind Crawford’s pretty boy face into an unrecognizable pulp with his boots. Not to mention what their father or he and Meg’s other older brother, Jeff said they’d do to him if he ever showed his cheatin’ face around her or her son again. Mess around with Megan or Noah and you had a swarm of pissy Padaleki’s after you.

Sadie was barking in the fenced in yard that surrounded the two story farmhouse before she sneezed repeatedly, causing Jared to laugh. Fool was trying to bite at the fat raindrops that had started falling from the sky. Vaulting the fence again, he headed into the barn and stepped through the big swing out doors to the south. The two dairy cows were standing impatiently in their grassy enclosure; both seemed to plead with Jared with their overly large eyes, to open the half doors and let them into the dim barn, which he promptly did. He figured that he would milk them after he got the horses settled. It would be a bit early, but the storm brewing looked like it may last a while and he for one, didn’t want to be stuck out in it.

The rest of the cattle were out on the northeast acreage, mingling with Jim Beaver’s cattle. He hoped they were smart enough to head for the safety of the trees along the riverbed. That would be their only protection tonight.

Walking through the barn after stalling the Holsteins, he opened the double doors to the east. Whistling across the paddock, he watched as first one then the other three horses cocked their ears to the sound. He let out the piercing shrill again and then turned to watch the rolling clouds over town.

The sky had gone slate, a marked difference from this morning’s nearly blinding sunshine. It had also dropped several degrees just in the past hour since he had been home. Turning to whistle again, he noted that he the horses were nearly upon him, none of their usual lollygagging gait towards the barn.

“You guys don’t like the looks of that either, do you?” he asked rhetorically, slapping the last horse gently on the rump as he followed it into the barn.

Jared was calming the last mare in her stall when his phone jingled out the ringtone for the diner.  
“Hey, I –“ Jared listened briefly, but he hadn’t even let Sam finish talking before he just thrust the slender black mobile into his pocket and hurried for the double door of the barn to watch the giant wall of roiling clouds, now colored a sickening greenish-grey, starting to crest over the far side of town. He drew the doors back and threw down the crossbar behind the pegs and slipped out the smaller side door. Flipping down the wind-latch, he sprinted against the wind for the house.

“Sadie!” He bellowed against the wind; his hand jamming his beat-up cowboy hat onto his skull.

There was a building darkness in the clouds. Lightening was being thrown around the outer edges, but the center of the stack seemed to be bearing down on the west side of town. There was movement within them as well, a sort of push and pull from north to south. Jared slowed briefly and concentrated on the mass. That’s not north to south, he thought wildly, realization clicking over in his brain. That’s the start of a funnel cloud.

“Sadie! C’mon girl, get inside!” His voice nearly lost in the rushing suction of the atmosphere.

The brown dog, fur sleek with rain, skittered across the painted planks of the porch. 

His only thought was that he had to get Megan and get them both to the basement. And he had to do it now.

“Megan!” He slammed the screen door against the house with a crack. Sadie tumbled in after him and started racing through the open doorways of the main floor. “Meg!”

Jared boots echoed off the hardwood of the dining room floor as he hollered for his sister again. It took a minute or two before he got an answer. 

“Jared.” His sister’s face hung tiredly over the banister. “I just finally got to sleep.”

He grabbed the rail and vaulted up the stairs. He felt bad waking her, especially after she just came off a string of overnights and the double yesterday at the hospital, but there was no way he was leaving her up here alone. “Just come on, Meg. Go to the basement. I’ll be right behind you.”

He grabbed the quilt from the chair in his room and the one from the bed, before pivoting and crossing the hall to room shared by his sister and her son.

“What is it?” his sister cried as she stood rooted on the braided rug in the center of the floor.

“Tornado.” He replied tersely, snatching another blanket from the top of the trunk at the end of the bed. “We gotta get downstairs, Meg. Now!”

“Noah?” She asked quickly as she reached into a quickly pulled dresser drawer for the box that held her important papers.

“He’s with grandma and Sam in town. Sam called to warn us. Come on, Meg.” Jared pulled at the sleeve of the oversized tee shirt that she had been sleeping in.

Jared didn’t know if it was had been the words or his tone of voice, but she finally seemed to gather herself enough to snag her purse and phone from the top of the dresser. He followed her down the stairs, where Sadie promptly attached herself to his heels.

They wove their way through the living room and dining room and into the pantry beside the kitchen. Jared threw back the rug that covered the trap door to the dank, cool basement and hit the switch with his elbow on the way down. 

Tossing the quilts on the small cot, he turned to hurry Meg, but she was right behind him. The dog’s nails could be heard still racing across the tile in the kitchen above.

“Stay here! I’m going to grab a few things up stairs, but I’ll be right ba –“

“NO!” She snagged at the rolled-up sleeve of his work shirt. “Don’t go back up there, Jay.”

“Stay here.” He reiterated. “Megan, I’ll be right back. I need to get the first aid kit and grab some things.”

“Jared! Leave all that. We can get it later.”  
“I’ll be okay, I promise, Meggie.” He scrambled up the stairs and ripped through the house again, grabbing a few more blankets from the back of the sofa in the living room.

Entering the kitchen again, Jared grasped the big stock kettle from the cabinet above the stove and set it to filling in the sink. He then grabbed the first aid kit and the flashlight from the drawer next to the sink and the stack of clean towels that had been left on top of the dryer. 

The wind was starting to whistle through the few cracked open windows of the house by the time he wrenched open the broom closet and tossed his load down on top of the milk crate filled with supplies that his grandmother kept for just this occasion. The closet door slammed shut behind him as he stepped out with his load and started for the bowels of the house again.

“Sadie! Come!”

Megan was folding down the roll-away cot as he dropped the box at the bottom of the stairs and again started up them. The dog pushed her way past on her way down, nearly upsetting him in her scuttling. “Stay!” He commanded grasping a pantry shelf filled with rows of his grandma’s home canning to pull himself erect again.

Jamming the taps off, he hefted the mostly filled kettle onto the counter and quickly settled the lid onto it and hastened for the basement again. Setting the sloshing pot down next to the crate, Jared headed far enough up the stairs to lower the door and then went about covering everybody on the cot, both man and beast in cocoon of soft cotton and flannel.

“It’s going to be okay, Meg. We’re going to be okay,” he repeatedly whispered against his sister’s temple as he pulled her as close to himself as he possibly could. But whether the reassurance was for her or himself, he couldn’t tell. The only way the tornado is going to get her is through me, he thought brazenly. But brave thoughts and the strong flesh of one man doesn’t mean a thing to the wrath of Mother Nature.

The lights flickered and went out as a series of loud bangs shook the house above them.

“Dear God . . .” Jared ducked his head as shattering glass started an uneasy duet with the terrifying thumps and booms. An occasional metallic screech would accompany them, raising the crescendo of destruction to nearly deafening.

Something massive must have struck the house, because there was a tremendous boom, followed by a sickening grinding. 

Jared peeked out from their hiding place and felt the dust falling from the open beam ceiling as it settled finely across his cheeks.

~***~~~**~~* Jensen *~~**~~~***~

“Aww, c’mon, Pete. You said it was double or nothin’. That means twenty bucks you owe me now.”

Chris’s voice carried from the action at the pool tables over to the alcove by the front door where Jensen was kicked back on bar stool. Chris had been right; the band had the bar a rockin’ and now they were on a break. Probably trying to figure out if they should continue, Jensen thought idly, or they wanted to try and make a break for home before the just starting snowstorm outside turned into a howling blizzard. 

Steve was popping tops off of Bud’s and PBR’s left and right behind the bar. Mark Pelligrino, the owner of the Pergation Station, had pressed Jensen into work the door the minute they had walked in. It wasn’t hard work, making sure nobody took out any open containers when they went out to smoke and he had to help bust up any fights. All in all, it would probably net him a hundred or so for the night, so he didn’t mind so much.

“FINE! Double. Or. Nothing. On. The. Next. Game.” Jensen watched Chris enunciate each word with a bounce of the pool cue on the worn wooden floor. That was until the last word, when he stabbed the cue into the air and punched a small blue hole into the white foam-board panel above his head, causing a small shower of dust to fall in his hair.

“Shut up and rack ‘em, Kane.” Mark called from the end of the bar he was working behind. “And you’re paying for that panel.”

Chris merely cackled and ran a hand through his loose, shoulder length brown hair, making it stand at attention. Jensen felt a grin pull at his lips as he imagined his friend as the evil gremlin from that kid’s movie, personified. Stripe, his memory supplied. He remembered hiding behind his father’s recliner whenever the nasty little creeps were picking on people. Boy, he thought with a touch of maudlin, did he ever fear the wrong creatures. But then again, he had only been around seven then.

He glanced behind the bar and saw that Steve carried the same amused expression in watching their friend’s drunken antics. Jensen caught Steve’s eye, causing the blonde to tip his head in sort of a what-can-you-do gesture. Returning Steve’s nod he let his eyes slide over to one of the televisions mounted in the corner behind the bar. 

Looks like somebody was getting a hell of a storm, he thought, looking at the rotating colors on the map behind the newscaster and the blinking alert on the bottom of the screen. It was too far away for him to read where it was though and his glasses were out in the truck.

The door to his right opened, letting a wave of frosty air catch his open collar.

“Ackles.” The man said, making a cursory attempt to brush the mud from his boots, before swiping at a few errant flakes of snow on his shoulders. ”Band done?”

“Hey, Brad.” Jensen nodded, though newcomer had yet to look up. “Nope. One more set I think. Startin’ to pick up out there?”

“Good.” Jensen watched his back as he made his way to the bar. It wasn’t the first time he had been ignored tonight and it more than likely wouldn’t be the last, but it still stung a bit. It would be nice to feel as though he belonged somewhere. Or with someone, his mind supplied in a moment lacking self-edit.

Reaching into the inside pocket of his worn denim jacket, he pulled out his phone and started going through his contacts.

Thirty-seven.

Thirty-seven contacts and nearly half were for jobs that he would never do again. For nearly six years now, he had floated from job to job to job; keeping his head down and his nose clean, but all he had to show for it was a dying Chevy, a worn saddle, and thirty-seven contacts. Fuck, but I’m pathetic, he thought miserably. 

The phone bleated out the warning that he needed to apply more minutes to his account. Sighing, Jensen flipped it shut and slid it into the front pocket of the hoodie he had on under his coat. He made a mental note that he would need to run to the store soon to pick up one of those pre-paid refill cards.

~***~~~**~~* Jared *~~**~~~***~

Silence.

Later, when he would allow his mind to think back to this day, Jared knew that silence was the one thing that would plague his memories. It is going to be the absolute stillness outside the house, the soft barely there whisper of dripping water from somewhere on the main floor above, and the quiet terror that he could make out on his sisters face as they huddled in the damp unfinished basement of the family’s nearly century old farmhouse.

The wind had rushed above, winding through the house causing numerous crashes and what sounded as if anything that wasn’t nailed down was dashed repeatedly against the trap door of the basement. There was a ringing in his ears that wouldn’t stop; it was like standing too close to a train with an engineer laying on the horn with all his might. 

But that had all ended awhile ago and now the silence was picking at his mind, making him fearful of what he would find above. And even more frightened of who might not have survived.

Megan had finally settled, wedged between the strong chest of her brother and the wall. Jared brushed his hand over the damp hair on her head. 

“You okay, Meggie?” For some reason he didn’t dare to speak above a whisper. “Do you think it’s done?”

She shivered and burrowed her tear dampened face into his neck. He made to stand and she shoved her whole body into him.

“Meg, I gotta go see. I think it’s over . . . Meg, they made it. Grandma and Sam are smart; they’re okay and they . . . Noah’s okay, Meg.” His heart nearly broke at the anguished whimper that started hiccupping from the young woman in his arms. He knew that she would be okay, but with her lack of sleep, the fear of the storm and now the adrenaline crash, her emotions were kind of all over the place, he mused. “It’s going to be okay.”

He wished that he could believe the words that were coming out of his own mouth.

It was then that he heard the solid footsteps on the floor above him.

“Someone’s up there, Meg. You stay here. I’ll –“ He heard a second set of steps and muffled voices calling out for them. “Megan. I’ll be right back.”

Finally disentangling himself from his quieting sister, Jared squeezed out from between her and the trembling dog and started for the stairs. When he reached the top he shoved at the door, but stumbled back when it didn’t give.

“Hey!” He shouted, banging on the flaking paint of the underside of the trap door. “Hey!”

He could hear the steps coming from what sounded like the living room, so he kept banging and hollering until he heard an acknowledgment from above.

“Jared?” Came the muffled reply.

Jared knew that voice. It belonged to Rob Benedict, one of the men that worked for his neighbor.

“Yeah!” He knew there was still danger, but it would have been impossible to keep the sound of sheer relief from his voice.

“Jim, they’re down here.” Jared heard Rob call out to his boss. Soon another set of steps scuttled over the kitchen linoleum.

“Jared? Son, you got Meg down there?” Jim’s gruff voice pierced the wood slats above.

“Yeah, Jim. And Sadie. Jim, the door. I can’t get the door open.” Jared pushed at the door again. “Jim? Can you get us out of here, Jim?”

“You all okay?” Rob asked. Jared listened to the muted dialogue above his head; he smiled down at his sister as he listened to Jim calling his farmhand a half-wit and telling him to shift his ass.

“Jared?”

“Yeah, Jim?”

“Boy, we got to figure out how to get the dryer out of this here pantry, and then we’ll get you guys’ outta there. You got that?” Jim replied. 

Meg’s eyes rounded and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Jared knew his expression was probably quite similar. How the hell did the dryer get pushed into the narrow pantry, he wondered?

“Jim?”

“Yeah, boy? Kinda busy here.” Jared felt bad interrupting their rescuers.

“How about town? Did . . . Have you heard if any . . . everyone’s okay, right?” Something was making Jared’s tongue try to strangle him. He didn’t want to say any names, but he also wanted . . . no . . . needed to know if his grandmother and nephew and Sam had made it through.

“Well, when I talked to Sam and Ellie, I heard a certain little man demanding when I was going to take him fishin’ again.” Jared could feel the tension seep out of his muscles, causing him to drop onto the steps and run his hands over his face a few times. “I don’t know about anybody else, Jared, but seems as though everyone at the diner sat it out in the basement there and ate some pie. El called me to come an’ check on you lot. Jared? Son, you hear me?”

It took him a few tries to clear his throat, but he finally responded with an affirmative.

“’Kay. Well, me and Rob here, well looks as if we’re gonna have to take door jambs off. And maybe even the damn door. But we’re gonna get y’all outta there. You guys just sit tight.”

Jared plodded down the stairs again and returned to his sisters’ side. Leaning her gently forward, he snuggled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

“Hear all that?” he asked dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “Jim’s going to get us out of here and then when Grandma and Noah get home, we can start cleaning up.”

Soon there were bangs and scrapes above them, showering them with even more dust from above, but Jared just smiled all the more.

***

The electricity was still out, so when the pale glow from the lantern-lit kitchen pierced the haze of the nearly black basement; Jared had to blink his eyes repeatedly. Looking down, he saw his sister’s tear clumped lashes making the same furious movements. They had only been down there for roughly two hours, but that was 120 minutes too long in Jared’s estimation.

“Well come on up and let me have a look at ya.” Jared didn’t think he would ever tell their often cantankerous neighbor just how beautiful his voice sounded right then.

“Prettiest thing, I’ve heard all day, Jim.” Then again, he would. Standing woodenly, he reached an arm out for his sister and felt her chilled fingers slip into his hand.

“Better let that dog up first. She’s liable to send ya ass over teakettle down these here stairs if ya don’t.” Jim said, teeth gleaming like a jack-o-lantern out of season. 

“Stay, Sadie.” The dog whined at the command and was prancing on her hunches at the thought of freedom. “How’s the glass look up there, Jim? It sounded like every window in the house had been blown out.”

“I had Rob here sweep a path to the back door, so she should be good to get outside at least. Let ‘er go, Jay. She’ll be okay.”

Letting his shoulders release a bit more tension, he released Sadie from her command and watched her gallop up the stairs. Jim’s voice called out for his hand to go out with her. Megan stumbled a bit in the dark; Jared gently wrapped a large hand around her elbow, guiding her gingerly up the stairs.

Once they reached the main floor, Jim reached out and righted one of the white painted kitchen chairs; he shook it a bit, testing for its sturdiness, before he moved it behind Megan. All it took was a gentle push on her shoulder and Jared watched her drop into the seat. She leaned back, but refused to let go of his hand.

Reaching into his pocket, Jared withdrew his cell. Flipping it open, he was dismayed to see the display reading ‘No Signal’. He turned it on and off, but received the same damned directive. He felt Megan’s eyes on him, so he turned a bit to shield the screen from her.

“Jim? You talked to grandma?” Megan asked quietly.

“Yep, talked to her and Sam, both.” He replied, righting another chair. “Seems as though they’re okay, probably shook up some, but heck, who wouldn’t be after that.”

Jared swallowed heavily before he slipped his phone back into his pocket. He coughed a bit, which drew both Jim’s and Meg’s eyes. “Does, um, your cell work, Jim?” 

“Shi . . .oot. Sorry.” Jim said, catching himself before he swore in front of Meg. “Yeah, ah, no. No, it doesn’t. Twister more than likely took out the tower south of town. I still have a CB though, as, apparently does Sam. We can go out to the truck, if you two want to talk to Ellie.”

“Yeah, Jim. I think that might be just what we need.” Jared said as he and Megan started to follow their gruff neighbor out into the growing dimness of dusk.

~***~~~**~~* Jensen *~~**~~~***~

Eight-thirty found Jensen sitting at the bar, one boot heel hooked on the rung of the wobbly stool, the other leg swinging free as he watched the pool game under way to the right of the stage, where the band was packing up their gear. They had cut their last set to two songs, two rather short songs, as they wanted to get on the road for home up in Ten Sleep.

“Hey, Jen, where was it that Jim moved to?” Steve called out from the other end of the bar; his voice fighting to be heard over the laughter of Chris and the other boys rollicking jeers over the faded green felt of the dilapidated barroom table.

Jensen laughed as he watched a clearly inebriated Kane, line up his cue, cross his eyes, and then shut them firmly, before taking his shot. He not only sank the ball he was aiming at, but knocked in another one for luck. Chris started crowing about being king of the west as the men around him groaned and tossed a mess of wadded up bills on the table to settle their bets.

“Jensen!”

Jensen turned at the call and saw Steve pointing at the television.

“Where’d Jim move to again?” Steve repeated himself.

Letting his eyes settle upon the action on the screen; Jensen watched as a worried looking woman pointing at a mass of red and orange on a map was soon replaced by the swirling rainbow of lights on the emergency vehicles behind the on-the-spot reporter. Emergency numbers started crawling across the bottom of the screen only to hide behind the Weather Channel’s logo in corner. Town names came next with the numbers of confirmed dead and then the higher number of the missing following behind.

The lone beer in his stomach fought to crawl up his throat when the words Solace, Texas flashed onto the bottom of the screen. He swallowed heavily over the growing lump.

Solace, Texas – 2 dead, 13 missing.

The only thing that seemed to stay moving in Jensen’s brain when everything else had drained away was three little words.

Time to go.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**28th of February, 2005**

After he and Megan spoke to his grandma and Noah over Jim’s CB radio out in the truck, it had been decided that Memaw and Noah would stay in town at Sam’s place. Megan knew she was needed at the hospital and since her car was now bent haphazardly against the trees of the north windbreak, she accepted a ride into town from Jim.

The diner had luckily made it through the storm okay; only the glass in the front door was spider-webbed now, from some object hurled against it in the wind. Sam’s house had a few shingles removed and a broken window or two, but nothing major.

The farm though, that was another matter entirely. Granted he was unable to get a complete tally on just how much destruction there had been or what all they had lost; the power still wasn’t on, but just what he could tell in Jim’s truck’s headlights, the house and the closest out buildings had quite a bit of devastation.

Jim had offered to send one of his guys over to help, even volunteered to come back himself seeing how his place had had some wind damage, but otherwise was relatively sound, but Jared knew that it was pointless to try and do much tonight. No, tonight it was going to be difficult to take in the major damage, let alone the small stuff, so he hesitantly declined. 

Jared found himself feeling out of sorts as he watched the taillights of Jim’s GMC pulling away down the driveway. The quiet was unnerving. He heard the rustle of Sadie as she started to root around under the phlox bushes by the side door. 

“Well, come on, girl.” He said trying to break the uneasy silence before it settled in to render him immovable. “Sadie.”

The dog shuffled backwards from her place beneath the bushes and came to dance slowly around him; tail smacking his knees repeatedly. He reached down and scratched lightly behind her ears.

“I don’t even know where to start.” He told her, overwhelmed by the task at hand. Jared knew that the two main tasks were checking the stock and making sure that his family had a house to come home to. He sucked in a steadying breath and slipped his hand into his pocket to pull out his phone. It still read ‘no service’, but at least the clock was working.

6:47 pm.

Jared did some quick calculations in his head. The storm had blown out and moved on roughly three hours ago; the sun dipped below the horizon nearly an hour after that, not willing to show its glowing face for about another twelve hours.

The air still held the odor of rain only now there was the rich pungency of Texas mud mixing in with it. He cocked his head and listened to a very light breeze whispering through the trees. Something seemed off, but Jared couldn’t settle his jittery nerves; it was going to be a long night; he gusted out a weary sigh.

Christ, Jared thought morosely, twelve hours before he could figure out the full extent of the damages. He turned for the barn and stopped to take in the sight of his truck implanted into the front wall, tail first. Its placement prevented him from opening the big doors, but luckily the small single door to the side was still accessible. Stepping over random debris that the tornado had deposited in the drive, he walked over and felt around until he could get in the drivers’ side door.

The bright light of the cab stunned his eyes and he blinked a few times to adjust them. Reaching behind the seat, he felt blindly around the big pocket sewed into the upholstery until he came out with the Maglite he kept there.

He pushed at the rubber button once and a high beam of light flicked out the windshield to focus on the side of the garage. It didn’t look too bad, he thought. It also caught the shiny specks on the bits and pieces of shingling that nearly covered the entire drive. 

Climbing out of the truck, Jared shut the door and headed for the barn door. From outside, he could hear the irritated hoof stomps of the horses in their stalls; a perturbed whinny sounded, followed by another and then another. He pulled the wind latch up and strode softly into the barn.

“Hey now, Hey guys, it’s okay. It’s all gone now. All over now.” He continued to speak in a calm voice as he edged closer to the stalls of the agitated animals. The horses looked to be okay as did the cows, but the ever-shifting light of the flashlight wasn’t going to help calm them down; flicking it off, he kept up the stream of soothing words for the spooked animals. Switching off the light may have helped them, but he was now left in total darkness.

With his fingertips barely grazing the wood of the stalls and his boots shuffling in the darkness, Jared shuffled towards the office. He hit the button on the flashlight at the same time that he shoved the door open.

After picking through the mess of the barn office, where all sorts of clutter had been strewn around and the taillight of his truck nearly blinded him when the flashlight glanced across it, Jared emerged with a softly glowing lantern and started to inspect the barn.

Flicking the switch again on the Maglite, he tucked it into his back pocket and walked quietly back into the barn. He reached for the box of sugar cubes that were kept on the ledge outside the office door and pocketed a small handful. 

“Hey there, Buttercup.” He greeted the first mare he came to. She was the oldest of the horses; the one he and his siblings had learned to ride on, Noah probably would as well. “Nothing but a little wind, that’s all, baby.” 

 

***

 

Once out of the barn, he veered back to the manger and noted that the sheep had made it through well enough. The manger was one of the newest buildings on the farm, so its structural integrity was probably the best, Jared thought. 

It was when he was headed for the chicken coop, did it click in his brain what had seemed off earlier. He could hear the horses and the sheep earlier, but no chickens. Rubbing a weary hand over his face, Jared stumbled a bit in the rubble between the buildings.

When the light from the lantern was about to hit the wire enclosure and the building, Jared felt his mouth drop open in shock. There wasn’t a wire enclosure and the building was only half standing; the roof gone completely. Jared swallowed hard and stopped in his tracks. He knew that he needed to confirm his suspicions, but man; he swallowed again to stem the rising bile in his throat. 

 

***

 

The darkness to the east was already starting to slip into the last hint of periwinkle night sky, when Jared finally bedded down for the night. He had been up for nearly twenty-one hours, but once he got started checking the animals and cleaning up the house, he found that the jitteriness that the storm had brought on kept him going for several hours.

After his discovery at the loss of all the farms’ hens and rooster, he couldn’t be outside anymore. Calling Sadie, he went into the house and started to tediously examine it, top to bottom. Most of the rooms on the west side of the house were fairly okay, he discovered. There was some minor water damage in his grandma’s room from a cracked window, but otherwise, not too bad, but the guest room and his room, well, that was a whole other story.

He couldn’t sleep in his room. It was in the southeast corner of the house; the side with the most damage and his room hadn’t been saved from the whirling winds. Not to mention the rains that had been sent through his shattered windows. By digging to the back of his dresser drawers, once he shoved it as close to its rightful place in the room as he could, he was finally able to rescue a dry-ish pair of socks and fresh boxers. Considering himself fortunate in that search, he merely pulled the door closed behind him and plodded tiredly down the stairs. He would deal with it tomorrow.

Eyeing the couch that was wet from the wind-whipped rain that had surged through the now missing picture window, Jared considered heading back to the basement to sleep on the cot. But the thought of getting stuck down the again . . . it was irrational, he knew, but he would rather find a nice piece of floor up here, thank you very much. He did go down and snag up all the bedding that he had shuttled down there in his and Meg’s scramble for safety. 

With the electricity still out, Jared created a sleeping pad big enough for both him and Sadie out of a couple of the quilts by lantern light. Stretching out on the big blue and green braided rug by the wide door between the living and dining rooms, he patted the blankets next to his hip and Sadie turned a few times before she settled her warm body next to his.

Rolling gently to his side, Jared petted his companion a few times and let his eyes wander over the wall of the open staircase, where a multitude of framed photos of generations of Padalecki’s hung rather askew from the rushing winds earlier. Squinting he could make out his grandparent’s wedding picture. He hoped that he could help his grandma rebuild the farm to how it was when his grandpa was alive.

Whether it was exhaustion, stress, or fear, perhaps it was a combination of all three; Jared felt the hot tickle of tears behind his eyelids. Rubbing a chapped hand roughly across his eyes, Jared blinked a few times as he continued to scan his life thoroughly documented and hung before him. Too long, had he ignored most of them for the one his gaze always fell on, a picture of him with his arms wrapped snuggly around a young man with warm brown eyes and light brown hair; their faces both split in wide grins.

One warm tear escaped as Jared closed his eyes to his past and tried to forget his present. Curling his arm beneath his head, under the makeshift pillow of his Dallas Cowboys hoodie, Jared swallowed heavily past the slight lump in his throat and let exhaustion claim him.

 

~***~~~**~~* Jensen *~~**~~~***~

 

They outran the snowstorm that was running along the Front Range from south of Denver up past Casper, near Pine Bluffs, with Jensen at the wheel and Steve riding shotgun. Chris was passed out in the back under the camper shell, with their gear packed in around him. Steve and Jensen had collected their wages from Mark, with an extra $250 apiece if they promised to take Chris with them. As though they would leave him behind. Jensen knew that it wasn’t a malicious deal; Mark just didn’t want to put up with Kane when neither Steve nor Jensen were around to keep him reined in. Plus, he knew that money was tight for them all. The man in question had been passed out in the circular booth by the jukebox at the time.

After rousing Chris enough to get him to a fuming Shelly’s house, where she readily helped them gather his meager belongings and tossed them into a couple of garbage bags before showing them the door. A stop at Steve’s to get his duffle, his guitar, and his mandolin, and they were on the road. 

***

Steve took the wheel in Big Springs, Nebraska after they filled up. Jensen bought a card for his phone, but when he tried to enter in the huge-ass number, he found that the bumping of the truck and the weariness of his eyes caused him to bungle it a few times. He would try again in the morning. 

They crossed into Kansas on Highway 83 headed south about two and a half hours before dawn. 

The sun had crested the horizon before it was swallowed up by the slow moving grey clouds from the west. But a certain lightening was overtaking the sky, signaling the full onset of day. They had just past through Garden City, their halfway point. 

Sadly that was when Steve and Jensen lost their serenity. Sleeping beauty in the back had started banging on the sliding window that separated the cab from the bed of the truck; demands and threats were tossed out like candy at a parade.

“Might as well pull over, man. He won’t let up until you do.” Jensen said wearily, looking back at the very red and very irate face of his hung-over friend. Besides, Jensen thought cursing the damn truck stop coffee, I have to take a leak.

“Who you think he’s going to punch first?” Steve mumbled a bit rhetorically as he guided the truck to a stop on the soft shoulder of a field entrance. 

Jensen hummed and pushed the passenger door open. He grasped his hands over his head and felt what seemed like nearly every joint in his back and hips pop back into place. Jensen stumbled down into the ditch and found himself zoning out while staring at the stone fence post he was relieving himself on. Who took the time to form each of these, he pondered, his eyes running up the fence line nearly hidden in the brittle tall grass.

Chris’s bellowing soon broke the calm of the morning.

“You fuckers! I can’t . . . you absolute pricks! Where the hell are we?” Jensen looked back to the road to see Steve rounding the passenger side of the truck as the compact body of Kane crawled over the closed tailgate of his truck to sprawl on the graveled shoulder. “Carlson! I’m . . . come here dammit! I’m gonna kick your fuckin’ ass.” 

Jensen tucked himself away and rubbed his chilled hands across the small of his back. His eyes followed Steve as he began fiddling with the latch above the front bumper of the beat up Ford. The hood was up by the time Jensen had wandered back up to frosty embankment.

“Hey, Jensen, you got oil for this beast?” Steve asked, wiping the dipstick on the filthy red rag that was serving as a radiator cap.

“Yeah.” He replied heading back to the passenger door that was still gaping open. Pulling the seat forward, he snagged the black plastic quart bottle and let the upright back of the bench seat shutter into place. Handing the 10W-40 to the blonde under the hood, he went back to where Chris was still ranting about kidnapping.

“Fuck you, Jensen. Just fuck you. You too, Carlson!” Chris raised his voice so that it would carry even more in the still Kansas dawn. “Fuck you both. You crossed state lines, my friend. I can call the cops. You want that, Ackles? You want the damn FBI all up in your shit?”

Jensen merely leaned against the back of the Ford and let Chris keep storming around kicking up a crap-ton of dust. He knew that he would blow out eventually; you just had to know when to step in to say the right thing to introduce the calming down stage.

“You know, you really need to buy a real radiator cap, right? And vise grips acting as a battery mount. Not terribly wise, my friend.” Steve dropped the empty oil quart over the tailgate.

“He’s not your friend! A friend does not kidnap you and drag you halfway across the mother fucking country.” Chris wedged his face right in front a Steve’s, while gesturing wildly at Jensen’s unmoved form.

Steve cast an amused look at Jensen before sliding away from the angry brunette in front of him.

“Jensen? Jensen, didn’t kidnap me. He asked me along after you suggested that we head south.”

Jensen groaned and rubbed a weary hand over his face. Stupid Steve never knew when to let up. He always knew how to wind their excitable friend up, just that much more.

“Me? ME?” Chris bleated. “Like I would suggest a road trip in the middle of the fuckin’ night. It wasn’t me, you asshole, it was him.” Jensen stumbled a bit as Chris’ flailing arm finally caught him in the chest. “If it were me, I would have packed like a man. I don’t see my bag in there. So that means you bastards just threw my shit in garbage bags like it means nothing.”

“Chris, It –“ Jensen got that much out, before he was shoved against the truck again.

“Fuck you, Ackles. I’m going home.” He yanked one of the black bin liners out cleanly, but the second caught on a rusted dent on the top of the tailgate, causing it to rip. Balled up socks, ratty tee’s, and a few CD diamond cases fell to the dusty earth, before they were covered in what looked like a vagabond’s entire shopping cart. 

Steve chuckled and pulled his shoulder length blonde hair back from his face into a haphazard ponytail.

“I don’t know what you two were thinking, but you are both dead to me. Dead!” Chris kicked at the truck, dangerously close to the taillight.

That was all it took to make Jensen step into action. As soon as Chris went to take another kick, Jensen slipped the toe of his worn out, lace up ropers behind Chris’ planted heel and the ranting man was quickly flat on his back, gasping for air. Jensen could handle most any kind of abuse and had for years now, but to take it out on his only form of transportation . . . well, that just wasn’t right.

Stepping far enough away to miss any wildly thrown kicks or punches from the prone man; Jensen crossed his arms over his chest and curved his torso over his friend.

“First of all, you sonovabitch, Don’t. Kick. My. Truck. Got that? Just don’t do it, you prick! Secondly, there was a tornado down Jim’s way and we’re all going down to help out. Understand? Because that’s what friends do. They help. Third, we didn’t pack your shit up. Shelly packed it for you. Seems she was right pissed that you didn’t bring her to the Station, like she said that you promised her. Probably explains the trash bags. And D, we are in Kansas, land of playing antelopes and yellow-brick roads, so where all ya planning on going? Gonna go see the wizard? Ask for a brain? A new liver?” Jensen stopped to inhale sharply to refill the oxygen that he had just expended over the moron on the ground.

“Going to see the wizard. A new liver. Ha.” Steve muttered before making his own trip down to visit the tall grass of the fence line. Jensen could barely hear the whistled tune of the Lollipop Guild over his own heavy breathing.

“Well, Kane what’ll it be?” Jensen watched as a battered red and white Chevy popped over the rise behind them. Chris was still taking in tiny puffs of air, trying to get his wind back. The truck pulled up behind them and the driver popped his head up from between the cab and the open drivers’ side door.

“You boys need some help?” The man’s worried expression caused the hairs to start rising on the back of Jensen’s neck. At his feet Chris coughed a little and then sat up.

“No . . . Just got . . . the wind knocked outta me.” Chris gasped as he waved a limp hand at the old timer and took another troubled breath. “Fell.” He said pointing at Jensen’s truck.

Jensen looked from his friend to the old man as he pulled his foot in the cab and shut the door. He let a relieved breath go and stooped to start collecting Chris’ wardrobe from around his feet.

The truck pulled up beside them and through a passenger window that was most decidedly off its tracks from the way it leaned crookedly in the door, the old guy addressed them again. “S’possed to maybe snow this afternoon. Probably, best you young’uns get a move on.”

They both lifted a hand as the truck gave a lurch when the farmer put it into gear and drove away.

“Well, Chris? We’re nearly to Dodge City, we can put you on a bus back home if you want, but Steve and I . . . we’re making it to Texas today.” He planted both his boot heels and stared down at his still wheezing friend.

“Jim? “ Chris cocked his head to the side waited for Jensen to confirm the man’s name before he let a sly grin and a set of twinkling blue eyes brighten the morning. “Jim Beaver? Hell, why didn’t you say it was the Beav? Help me up, son and let’s get rollin’” Jensen grasped his hand pulled him upright. And they set about collecting the strewn around gear.

“Hey, Jensen?” Chris’s voice was returning to his normal conversational levels.

“Yeah?”

“You do know that D doesn’t come after third, right?”

“Fuck you, Kane. It’s your turn to drive.”

 

~***~~~**~~* Jared *~~**~~~***~

 

It hadn’t really been sleep, Jared reminded himself blearily, blinking his eyes open to the brilliant morning sun glaring in the broken picture window, straight into his eyes. The raucous sound of chirping birds grew louder and louder as the rest of the world woke up. Sadie’s whiffle-ly snores next to his head added to the din. No, it had merely been a nap to reset his internal clock. He pulled his watch off the arm of the couch, where he had left it last night and squinted into its analog face . . . no, make that a little over three hours ago.

Stretching his arms above his head, Jared’s shoulder blades rubbed awkwardly against the braided rug beneath him. His back ached from the numerous trips up and down the stairs of the diner yesterday, throw in the tense anxiety he had spent half the night in, trying to figure out just how much damage the tornado had done. Oh, and he had ended up sleeping on the floor, Jared sniped at himself in his mind. 

Pointing his sock-clad toes, he lowered his arms; his right one accidently nudged the dog into wakefulness. 

“Ugh. Warn a guy, will ya?” he said in reply to the wet ‘good morning’ lick that was placed excitedly on his cheek. Grinning, he reached out and scratched at the soft hairs under her chin. “Phew. One of us has morning breath.” 

Sitting up, he wrestled Sadie for a few moments before she took another swipe at his chin. “Fine, we both have morning breath. ‘Cept, I’m going to go take care of mine, what are you going to do?”

Hefting himself up, Jared let a few choice words slip out. Glancing around he grinned when he realized that he had gotten away with them, but his grin faded when he remembered where everyone was. He pulled on last night’s jeans before he leaned against the door jamb and pulled his boots on. While he had been pretty thorough in cleaning up the glass last night, he wasn’t going to walk around barefoot without pretty rigorous vacuuming.

Entering the kitchen, he flicked the light switch to see if the power was back on yet, but the action was futile as the crews were probably busy trying to restore power to town first. Jared understood, he just hoped it wouldn’t be much longer. Stepping into the small half-bath off the kitchen, Jared relieved himself before he washed his hands and grabbed his toothbrush. He was still brushing when he wandered back into the kitchen and tried to figure out what to have for breakfast.

Sadie started doing her squirming ‘time-to-water-some-flowers’ dance around his feet.

“Shit, sorry girl, Daddy’s sorry, c’mon, let’s go see what’s what out there.” Jared felt bad, he was used to his grandma rising earlier than him, and so she usually let the dog out first thing. He snagged a bottle of water from the counter and walked through the mud room to the door leading to the back porch. He had barely hit the latch on the wooden screen door, before Sadie pushed it wider with her nose and barreled out into the yard. Stepping out after her, he twisted the top of the water and used the first mouthful to rinse and spit into the rose bush by the front steps.

The sun wasn’t full of heat yet, but the slight early morning warmth felt good on his face. He stepped down a few steps and found himself in yard. Pivoting slowly, Jared took in the state of the farm in the bright, yellow light of day. It seemed as though everything had been picked up, ran through a rock tumbler, not unlike the one he had as a kid, and then slammed back to the earth. It was a whole new world, or at least it felt like it. Jared fought to hold air in his lungs as the shock bled through him.

He poured a little water over his toothbrush and after flicking it a few times, he tucked it into the breast pocket of his work shirt. It’s time to figure out just how bad the damage is, Jared thought, his mind whirling at the utter devastation around him.

The animals needed tending first then he would see about trying to pull his truck out without causing more damage to either that or the barn. Sighing, he pulled the door open to the barn and set about getting the livestock settled better.

 

~***~~~**~~* Jensen *~~**~~~***~

 

The sound of one of the truck doors brought Jensen harshly back to a wakeful state. Blinking a few times, he finally slid from his prone position amid a pile of blankets to his knees. Working the latch of the topper from the inside he flipped it up, nearly catching Steve in the chin as he walked behind the truck.

Jensen peered owlishly at his surroundings. The long, low tan house looked inviting with tall trees giving it neat shady yard. He could hear some kids hooting and hollering from somewhere behind him and Chris’s voice booming above the din. It was a nice house, he decided silently, but not at all what he expected Jim to live in. This house was definitely not a bachelor residence. Looking to the left, he caught sight of a late model silver Dodge, back stacked high with bales of hay. Beyond the truck, Jensen spotted the dim white trim on a shed of some sort.

He glanced up at Steve’s grinning face, knowing full well that his own face held only a look of questioning disbelief.

“We’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.” Steve said as he reached in the bed of the truck and snagged the handle of his duffle to drag it towards the tailgate.

“Jim?” Jensen asked, confusion muddling about in his brain.  
“Dan in Norman.” Steve lowered the tailgate with a shriek and a shutter. Jensen pulled his stiff body up enough to swing his legs over the side. He fisted his hands to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“Dan and Norman? Who are they?” 

“Not they. Him and where.” Steve replied, pulling a clean shirt and pair of jeans from his bag. He tossed the beat-up black toiletry bag on top, before he returned to his foraging.

“Him and where?” Jensen knew he sounded like a parrot, repeating everything that his friend said, but he was well and truly lost at the moment.

“Him. Chris’ Uncle Dan. And where would be Norman, Oklahoma. Well, a bit south of Norman. Close enough for the mailman, I suppose.”

“Chris’ Uncle Dan?” He watched as Steve added a pair of socks and boxers to the small pile that was growing on the tailgate.

“Yes, Polly. Chris’ Uncle Dan. You were sleeping, so we decided to see if we could make a pit stop here to . . . well, freshen up, if you will.”

“I didn’t know that Chris had family in Oklahoma.” Jensen said with a touch of doubt.

“Me neither. I guess I always imagined that he was spawned or something along those lines. But Chris called the man and he seemed right happy to hear from him, too.”

“Weird.” Was all that Jensen had to say.

“Yep.” Steve said, cradling the bundle of fresh clothes in his arms. “I called first dibs, but I’m sure Chris will let you go next, so that he can talk to his family a bit more.” Jensen grinned as Steve used his free hand to make air quotes around the word ‘family’.

 

***

 

They had all washed up and grabbed like thieves at the platter of sandwiches that Dan’s wife, Charlotte had whipped up. Now, less than an hour later they were chucking their belongings back into the truck.

“You boys should stop and pick up some bottled water and some non-perishables in town. You or your friend might need it, if the storm took out the power. No tellin’ what the wells are like, seeing how everywhere is different. Ours were okay in ’99 when we got our twister, but then it wasn’t too close to us and coupla’ miles away at that. Still though, better safe than sorry, there’s probably gonna be a squeeze on supplies down there.” Dave was making his rounds, shaking each of their hands as they loaded themselves three wide on the Ford’s bench seat. “And Chris, I’ll tell your momma that you didn’t have time to stop today, but you best see her before you head back north.”

“Yes, sir.” Chris replied respectfully from the passenger seat, causing Jensen and Steve to both lift an eyebrow. Steve mouthed the word ‘momma’, cracking Jensen up.

“Y’all let me know if your friend needs hay or any tools. I got hay and I can bring some down and there’s a mess of tools in the shed. I’m sure I can part with some. Not too far a drive, either. So you boys’ let me know, ya hear?” Steve turned the ignition and the truck groaned to life; with a flurry of waves and the kids racing the truck down the driveway, they were off. 

They planned to switch drivers at the Oklahoma/Texas border and Jensen would finish the drive into Solace. Three or three and half more hours, Jensen figured roughly from his place in the middle. Hopefully the truck wanted to see Jim as much as he did and it wouldn’t give up on them before they reached their final destination. He silently crossed his fingers in his lap. Just in case.

 

~***~~~**~~* Jared *~~**~~~***~

 

Jared turned a fraction towards the north, just enough to place the corner of the barn more into his line of sight and then he pivoted slowly back to his original stance. He did this a few more times, but try as he might, he couldn’t figure out how the tornado had claimed the hen house and part of the old bunkhouse, but had missed nearly everything else. Twisting again, he shoved his hands onto his hips and let his eyes follow the nearly perfect line that the storm had left. And there was a clearly delineated difference between mere wind damage and utter destruction.

Walking slowly towards the chicken coop, Jared stopped when he saw Sadie’s head pop up and then her whole body wiggled out from the chunk of shingled debris in the yard next to the house. The shingles didn’t match any of the buildings on their farm. Looking up, he watched as the wiggling brown body of his dog started dancing towards the driveway, where his grandmothers red Chevrolet was pulling to a stop. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Jared walked over to meet the car as it slowed to a stop.

He could see Noah’s head tipped against the side of his car seat, little mouth slackened into a tiny ‘o’ as he slept. Letting his hazel eyes drift to his grandma’s shocked face, he felt his stomach clench and his heart ached for her. 

Stopping just short of the opening car door, Jared waited until his grandma slipped off her seat belt and stepped out, before he engulfed her in a hug. He could feel her small form shaking with emotion, the sound of a sniff or two found his ears as the worn and dirty tee shirt that spanned his chest grew wet in her tears. 

Dropping a kiss on to the top of her head, he caught the smell of the diner. She smelled of the floral scent of her soap and of fried potatoes and bacon and fresh bread; she smelled of fear and despair. Jared tightened his arms as though letting her know that his strength was hers for the asking.

“It’s alright, Memaw. We’re alright . . . we’re going to be alright.” Jared murmured into her disheveled hair. He was going to keep saying it and saying it until it came true.

 

~***~~~**~~* Jensen *~~**~~~***~

 

Looking to south, Jensen couldn’t distinguish Plano from Dallas in the daylight, but then he wasn’t so sure that he could at night either. He remembered the few times in his youth when the family had gone somewhere, a vacation or some such place, only to return home after dark. The sky around Dallas had glowed like a beacon to Mars then, from the sheer number of lights. It was like standing in the dark for hours and then shining a million spotlights on a field of disco balls, like the unused dusty one that hung neglected from the rafters of the Station. Jensen felt his face tug into a reluctant grin at the memory of him and his brother Josh, trying to count the lights one time as they grew closer to home.

The grin dropped away as Jensen felt again, not for the first and definitely not the last time the hole in heart that his older brother used to fill. Josh had been a brat, but he had always come through in the end. Well, nearly always . . .

_“Stop it.” Jensen hissed at his brother._

_The big jerk kept poking him in the thigh. One day, Jensen thought grumpily. One day, he was going to be thirteen, too and then there would be payback. He squirmed across the cushion of the love seat they were sitting on, playing Donkey Kong on their new Nintendo._

_“What?” Josh’s voice dripped with feigned innocence. He poked Jensen in the hips this time._

_“Knock it off, butthead.”_

_He wedged his body against the wooden arm next to him, where he could feel the rounded decorative spindles grinding against his hip bone. Josh pretended to ignore him and slid over just that little bit more._

_“What?” Josh said, twisting his body as though it would help Mario jump over the barrels better. “I’m not touching you.”_

_“You were.”_

_“Not.”_

_“Were.”_

_“You’re such a baby, Jen.”_

_“Am not.”_

_“Are, too.”_

_“Am not.”_

_“Crap, see what you made me do, Baby Jen?” Jensen smiled as he watched the barrel flatten the little man on the screen._

_“My turn.” Jensen tugged the controller out of his brother’s hand and started the game again._

_*Poke*_

_“Josh.” Jensen pleaded quietly watching as yet another Ape-thrown barrel spelled out Mario’s doom._

_“Ha! Gimme that.” Josh yanked the cord of the controller so that it flew from Jensen’s hands, smacked him in the shins and landed at Josh’s feet. He snagged it up at Jensen cried out._

_“Ow!”_

_“Boys.” Their momma’s voice called from the kitchen._

_“Sorry.” Josh called back first, followed by Jensen’s own muttered apology._

_Folding his arms across his thin chest, Jensen looked towards the kitchen door. He could hear his parents’ murmured voices from within, his second, no, wait, third clue that something was up._

_The first clue had been the silent looks and raised eyebrows over his momma’s fried chicken. Usually, his dad would ask Josh and then Jensen about their day at school, but tonight was mostly silent. It would have been completely silent if Josh hadn’t been going on and on and on about his stupid baseball team, Jensen scowled as he thought of that. He was too old for T-ball, but not coordinated enough yet for pee-wee ball._

_The second reason that something seemed off, was that they had been sent to the living room to play games, while his momma got their desserts ready. Dessert in the living room just wasn’t done in the Ackles’ house, especially if you didn’t even shave yet._

_*poke*_

_“Josh!” Jensen cried, sliding from his cushion next to his brother to the floor in front of the love seat._

_“Aww . . . is Baby Jenny pouting? Poor Jenny can’t sit like a big boy.” His brother taunted, voice sing-songing in sarcastic baby talk. “Maybe ‘Kenzie will let you play with her baby dolls with her. Huh, ‘Kenzie? Can Baby Jenny play dollies with you?”_

_Jensen looked over to where his little three year-old sister was ‘reading’ a book of nursery rhymes to her dolls. He noticed that the book was upside-down._

_“Baby Jenny, need to go nappy?” Josh flung a foot out to dig in his ribs._

_“Not a baby, jerk.” Jensen grumped and scooted away from his brothers’ searching toes._

_“Joshua Alan! Jensen Ross! You both knock it off or no dessert.” His dad hollered from the kitchen. Peaking from beneath his bangs, Jensen half expected his dad to come around the corner, but it didn’t happen._

_“Here, baby. It’s your turn.” Josh tossed the controller down into his lap._

_“Josh?” Jensen whispered. “Do you think that something’s wrong?”_

_“What?”_

_“Do you . . . do you think that Momma’s sick? Or . . . or Dad’s leaving? Or dying?” Jensen rushed the words out until he came to the dying part, where his voice faded._

_“What are you talking about, freak.” Josh laughed. “Nobody’s dying. Why would you think that?”_

_“I . . . just that, well, nobody’s saying anything and we have to be in here and they’re in there’ talkin’ and we, well, we get to have ice cream in the living room.”_

_“God, Jensen.” Josh groaned. “I take it back. You’re not a baby, you’re a drama queen. And a dumb one to boot.”_

_“Am not.” Jensen retorted huffily._

_“Maybe mom and dad don’t want to tell you what they’re talkin’ about because you’re such a blabbermouth. Ever think about that. Maybe they think that you are going to tell the whole world their business. Just like you told everybody that momma had a baby in her tummy.” Josh poked him in the back of the head._

_“But – “_

_“Jensen. Stop already. Nothing is going on. Nobody’s sick or dying. Nobody’s leaving. Quit being a worrywart.” Josh’s word didn’t make him feel any better. “Besides, if something is happening? I’m going to be here too, so don’t worry about it, okay? I’m older and it’s my job to watch out for you two. Okay?”_

_He could hear Mackenzie babbling on and on in her own weird baby words. Josh simply started a new game of Donkey Kong and Jensen? Jensen was left stewing about the secret his parents weren’t telling him._

“Jensen? Hey, Ackles!”

Jensen jumped and shook his head lightly and then peered out of the corner of his eye past a napping Chris next to him to see Steve staring at him from the passenger seat.

“Yeah?”

“Think you missed the interchange we’re supposed to take.” Steve stated, his eyes following his finger as it traced the map they had printed out at Uncle Dan’s.

“Shit. Really?” Jensen let his foot off the accelerator briefly.

“Yep. But it looks like we should be able to take the next one and then backtrack about a mile or two.” Steve elbowed Chris, causing the sleeping man’s head to slide off his shoulder. Jensen heard a muttered expletive before the head slid over onto his own arm.

“Drivin’ here, Kane.” Jensen shrugged his shoulder a few times, but the tumble of brown hair stayed heavily against his shoulder.

“You should be happy he’s not dreamin’ ‘bout some girl.” Steve laughed. “Or else, you would have to deal with roamin’ hands among other things.”

Jensen shot him the stink eye, before noting the sign for the next exit. He flipped his fingers at Steve, who held up the map so that Jensen could get a look at it. Nodding, he hit the blinker and slowed for the off-ramp. It was several miles later, when back on the proper road that either of them spoke again.

“You okay, Jen?” Steve asked quietly. Not long after Jim had moved to Texas, Jensen had climbed into a bottle and he spent the night telling all his secrets and bemoaning his very own existence to both Steve and Chris. He didn’t remember exactly what was said then, but every so often it, when he got lost in his thoughts; it seemed as if Steve could read him like a book. “You need me to drive?”

“No!” Jensen replied quickly. He sucked in a quick breath. “Sorry. No, I’m good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Just remembering a trip we made when I was a kid. Nothing . . . no problem.” Jensen pointed out a billboard for the Cockroach Hall of Fame in Plano. He and Steve both chuckled as the truck sped on by. 

“Okay.” Steve stated. “Just offering . . . just. I know this trip is going to be hard for you and . . . well, if you need me . . .”

Jensen didn’t answer, just as Steve didn’t need to finish the sentence. They both knew where the other stood and when it got too rough, when to step in. Jensen watched as Steve’s hand pointed out the sign for Solace. He swallowed heavily as he willed the memory to fade from his mind and gave the truck a bit more gas. If it weren’t for Chris and Steve, well and Jim for that matter, Jensen didn’t know where he would be. Heaven knows that his own family was never going to be there for him like these three. The trees whipped past the window as the truck cruised over the hot Texas blacktop.

 

***

 

Jensen pulled the truck away from the squad car parked on the edge of town, beneath a sign exclaiming ‘Solace ~ The Heart of Pecan Country - population: 1,087 good nuts’. They had been stopped, as had every other car entering town, to see what their business was and who they knew in town. After Sheriff Hutton had radioed the station and been patched through to Jim, who had answered with an “Ackles, Kane, and Carlson? Hell, yeah, they can come on out. You want boys like these around, Sheriff.” 

“The Beav sounded okay, right?” Chris said as Jensen steered the truck through the small town of Solace. It didn’t appear to be flattened completely, much to Jensen’s relief. The whole way down here his brain had been supplanting pictures that he had seen in papers and on the news of past storms that had ravaged tornado alley. Sure there was some definite damage, but . . .

“Yeah, he sounded good, real good. Maybe we made the trip for . . .” Steve’s voice stopped as they all turned their heads to stare at the small green Subaru wagon being pulled from the interior of a house. 

“Maybe.” Jensen echoed, knowing full well that his tone was not quite sounding terribly positive at the moment. 

They followed the directions that the sheriff gave them, but twice they were forced to take detours around road closures. The further they drove, the more frightening the scenery became. 

There was a tall man with ebony skin in front of a mechanics’ garage operating the lift on a tow truck. Jensen watched as a flattened red Honda Civic was being lowered to the ground next to what appeared to be a growing number of totaled cars. A second man came from the garage bay, wiping his hands on a greasy rag before pointing at where he wanted the car dropped. Steve waved a bit as both men stopped and stared as Jensen’s truck rolled by.

A little ways down the road, they saw a petite woman in front of the local diner, handing a Styrofoam container of food to someone and then wrapping her arms around them in comfort. Jensen could feel his airway constrict as a lump started to grow.

Near the far edge of Solace, they passed the school. A large white tent had been set up by the Red Cross and people were queuing up to long tables filled with supplies. Chris commented on the number of cute nurses sporting the white armband with the Red Cross properly stenciled on them. Jensen choose to ignore him as he gave the truck a bit more gas and they headed East out of town towards Jim’s place.

 

~***~~~***~~* Jared *~~**~~~***~

 

The pile of refuse was growing in the ditch running against the road. Jared had spent the morning pulling everything unsalvageable up there in hopes that it would be easier to cart off from there. He looked at the porch from his seat on the old grey and blue Ford tractor. Noah was still playing with his horses, imaginary pens and fences were being created out of sticks and rocks. Sadie, for all her nonchalance was eyeing him from her place in the yard. Jared tooted the small horn on the tractor and waved at his nephew. 

Steering the tractor behind the house he clamored off and hooked the hauling chain around the base of the fallen ash tree. The fallen trees, he was dragging to the open area next to the tool shed figuring that when all the major repairs were made, he could chop them up for firewood. After he loaded and unload the chain in the proper place, Jared drove towards the front again to gather up the next fallen tree.

A beat up green and white older model Ford sat idling in the drive; the driver’s side door hung open. Jared looked first at the truck and then spun his head towards the house. A tall man in a faded blue ball cap was leaning over the short fence patting Sadie’s head as he talked to Noah, who lay on his belly on the old wooden slat swing that hung from the old elm tree.

“Noah!” Jared yelled, slamming the tractor’s throttle down and switching the key off. He jumped from the seat and jogged towards the yard. “Noah. Can you go to the house for me?”

“But U. . .” his nephew’s voice took on a hint of confusion.

“Noah, can you get me a bottle of water, please? I’m really thirsty.” Jared asked, trying not to startle the boy, but wanting him away from the stranger as fast as possible.

“Okay.” The boy said quickly and scampered towards the steps of the porch.

“Can I help you?” Jared folded his arms across his chest and turned to the man.

“I . . . Um, we’re looking for Beavers. Um . . . No, wait, I mean Jim Beaver’s place. We got directions in town, but . . .” 

Jared watched the stranger’s face flush, he knew it was probably the awkward comment that he had made, but it didn’t matter to Jared at all. Nope, he just liked how it looked on the traveler. 

“We got turned around.” Jensen finished lamely.

“Jim Beaver?” 

“Ah, yeah. We’re friends. Well, we all are.” Jensen said, gesturing towards the Chris and Steve in the truck. “We worked with Jim in Wyoming and uh, we heard about the storm and hit the road to see if we could . . . well, help, I suppose.” 

Jared craned his head a bit to see into the cab of the truck. Both the men lifted their hands in a sort of wave. He glanced at the truck itself and noted the standard man atop a bucking horse that symbolized the state of Wyoming on the front license plate.

“You’re telling me that y’all heard about the storm and drove here? It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.” Jared knew that the disbelief of his statement was bleeding through in his tone, but it seemed highly improbable that that was how it went down.

“Yeah.” Jensen replied, growing a little perturbed at being doubted by the farmer. He may be gorgeous, but he was showing himself to be as helpful as teats on a boar. “Jim’s a friend. Helped me out of a tight spot or two. All of us, really. So we just want to see if we can repay him and if helping him rebuild is what it takes, well, we’ll help him as best as possible.”

Jared watched as the man pulled his ball cap off, the red Ranger’s emblem as faded as the rest of the hat, and wiped his forearm across his brow. With the shadow of the brim gone, the man’s startling green eyes flashed dangerously. Jared sucked a slow breath through his teeth as he noticed the rugged jaw hiding behind the five o’clock shadow; it was showing a golden ginger color in the afternoon sunlight. It looks so soft, Jared thought wildly trying not to stare. And freckles? It also looks like I’m screwed.

“So do you know Jim?” Jensen ventured as he tried to keep his eyes from giving the tall man a once over. “We would call, but the Sheriff said the tower was out. Do you have a phone we could us?”

“Yeah.” Jared gave his mind a mental shake. “No.”

Jensen could feel his blood start to rise.

“Sorry.” Jared stated quickly. He heard the front door bang shut as the sound of little feet started across the porch. “I mean, yeah, I know Jim. But all the phones, well, we don’t know when they’ll be up again.”

“Here” Noah said as he skipped to a stop next to Jared’s leg. He was juggling three bottles of water in his arms; one dropped to roll against his uncle’s dirty boot. “Oh.”

“Thanks, Noah.” Jared said as he stooped to pick up the wayward bottle.

“Hi, I’m Noah. Here” Jensen smiled as the little boy thrust a bottle at him, well at his knees.

“Hiya, Noah. Thanks.” Jensen reached over the fence to accept the offered bottle before it too tried to escape the pudgy little hands. “I’m Jensen. I’m a friend of Jim Beaver’s.”

“I like Jim. He takes me fishin’.” Jared smiled down at the boy as he laid a large palm over the top of his head. “He promised that we would go real soon again.”

“Sounds like Jim.” Jensen smiled from the boy to his father as he cursed his fate at meeting one of the most sinfully hottest men in all of Texas and he already had a kid, which meant that there was a wife about, somewhere. He looked again at the farmer. “So, Jim?”

“Uh, yeah. You just want to go up the road there a piece, ‘bout two, two and half miles. Green house, white trim, brown barn. He’s . . . well, he should be there. When I talked to him last night, sounded like he had some damage. Not too much, but some.” Jensen watched as the guy gestured beyond the mailbox to the left.

“Yeah. Thanks . . .” Jensen paused, deftly cocking an eyebrow at the other man.

“Oh, Jared. Jared Padalecki.” Jared supplied as he offered his hand.

“Okay.” Jensen felt the warmth of the neighbor’s hand start to crawl up his wrist and forearm. “Well, thanks, Jared. Guess we’ll head on and see what we can do. Thanks for the water, Noah.”

“You’re welcome.” Noah crowed from his spot on the swing. Neither man had seen him return to his previous action of trying to twist the ropes of the swing so it would spin him around.

“I hope . . . well, let Jim know that if he needs anything.” Jared let his eyes rove over the denim clad behind of the cowboy from Wyoming. Bowlegs? Jared swallowed thickly in the afternoon sun, he did like bowlegs. He looked up in time to see Jensen climb into the driver’s seat again. He waved as the truck started to back out of the drive. The two passengers waved back, the one in the middle with the longish brown hair had a hell of a smirk on his face.

The dust from the gravel road kicked up as the truck headed down the road to the Beaver farm. Jared wiped the wetness left on his hand from the cold water bottle across his face, unknowingly leaving streaks of dirt.

Jared was torn between the hope that Jim’s house was hardly touched and at his wanting Jim to have been downplaying the damage to his place when he talked to him last night. If it wasn’t bad like Jim said, Jensen and his friends would probably leave quickly, but if it was worse, they would probably be staying on a bit. Jared couldn’t decide which scenario was worse . . . or better, he guessed silently, depending on how one looked at it.


	3. Chapter 3

“BEAV!”

Jensen winced, but that did not stop the broad smile from spreading across his face as his older friend stepped out onto the porch of the small two-story faded light green farmhouse with the peaked roof. He threw the gearshift into neutral and let the truck quit rolling in the drive before he hit the parking brake.

“Hey guys.” Jim called out, leaning two weathered fists against the railing. “Long ways from home aren’t you?”

“Hey, Jim.” Steve replied as he crawled from the truck, crossed to the porch and reached out a hand.   
“Steve. See you still got that annoying fungus.” Jim laughed, nodding towards Chris as he shook the blonde’s hand.

“Yeah, nothing to take for it. It will just follow me around ‘til the day I die, I s’pect.” 

“Shut up, Carlson. It’s you who can’t live without me.” There was no heat in Chris’ words as he jumped from the truck and headed straight for Jim. “Hi, old man. Miss me?”

Jensen’s eyebrows leapt on his face as he watched his friend wrap his arms around Jim and lift him in a bear hug. His laughter broke through nervously as Jim beat at the broad back beneath him.

“Put me down, you ass. What the hell, Kane?”

“But I missed you. How ‘bout a big smooch?” Jensen rounded the truck and nearly stumbled as Kane fell back against him as Jim pushed him away. With one steadying hand on Chris, Jensen waved a brief hello at one of his most trusted friends. Watching Jim’s laughing, yet tired face, Jensen realized that though there had been hundreds of miles between them lately, he still looked upon his oldest friend as the dad that hadn’t discarded him like a rotten piece of fruit.

“Jensen.” Jim said, extending his hand between Chris and Steve. “Long time, boy.”

“Hey, Jim . . . ah, well, we wondered if you could use a few extra hands.” Jensen clasp Jim’s hand and then released a soft grunt as Jim pulled him into a tight hug.

“Missed ya, son,” Jensen swallowed back a small lump at the edge of emotion in the older man’s whisper. “glad you’re here.”

“Me too, Jim. Me too.”

 

***

 

Jensen cast an eye towards his passenger, but the tall farmer was busy staring out the window into the growing twilight. He looked back to the road, but not before catching a glimpse of the moon-sized eyes of the little boy buckled tightly between them. 

Jim had been showing him and the guys some of the worst damage his place had sustained, when one of the three hired hands had hollered from the house and then ran at them at full tilt, sliding to a clumsy stop beside the foursome causing the gravel to pelt up around their boots.

“Jim!” the cowboy panted out as he clutched at his bosses steadying arm. “Just got word that Lindy didn’t stay in Tyler like we thought . . . Beth said he left about a half hour earlier . . .”

“Before the storm?” Jim bit out as the man’s head bobbed emphatically on his shoulders.

Jensen watched the man’s face pucker a bit when Jim swore and then strode away leaving them all to watch his retreating back slam through the wooden screen door of the house.

“Who’s Lindy?” Steve asked the red-faced man.

“Another hand. Chad Lindberg. He went to get some part for the pivot down in Tyler. He’s got a girl there and we figured that he stayed with her last night. He does that sometimes. And with the cell tower out, we couldn’t . . .” The man clammed up as the door slammed open again and Jim started towards them with a dirty black suede jacket covering his blue long-sleeved t-shirt. 

“Well, c’mon boys. Guess we gotta figure out where that dumbshit is.” Jim grouched as he stomped around the edge of his truck. “Rich, you and Rob get started on the chores. Jensen, you and Steve . . . wait, no . . . you and Chris start east and then south on 37 and see if you can’t catch sight of a bright blue Toyota with a black topper. Lindberg put a lift kit on it, so it’s pretty high profile. Got a pretty good-sized American Flag decal on the back hatch. Steve and I’ll head west and then south. There’s a junction near Minola. If you don’t catch sight of the truck, wait there.”

Jensen watched as Jim rooted around in the long toolbox that spanned the width of the bed of his own truck. He jumped a bit when Jim spit out, “Richard. Chores.” before he withdrew two large portable spotlights from the jumbled mess of the metal box. He handed one to Steve and pointed them down the road they had just traveled.

That had been about two hours ago, now Jensen was carrying a reluctant passenger and his son out on a rescue mission in which he felt completely out of his depths to handle. Finding missing cattle in a Wyoming blizzard on horseback? Yeah, he could do that. Helping to bring a desperate mare through a difficult birth? Yep, that too. However, the sun ravaged face of a broken man beside an equally as broken truck? Well, Jensen was glad that Chris volunteered to stay while he went for help.

He had left Chris at the sight of the rolled truck and the injured man and sped back to the deserted farm. Deserted because the other two were still out on the search and the hands must not have been done with the chores. Jensen had weighed his options; no cell reception meant he couldn’t call Jim or even the sheriff. He could go all the way into town, but he had no idea where the police station was or if he could even get anyone to follow him back out, seeing how nobody knew him. He was about to take his chances and double-back to see if he couldn’t make it to the junction that Jim had mentioned when he saw lights at the Padalecki farm and took a chance.

“My side or yours?” Jensen startled at the deep voice that cut through the silence of the cab.

“Sorry?”

“Chad. Do you remember if he is on my side of the road or yours?” 

“Oh. Yeah . . .” Jensen thought back for half a second. “Yours. We were on the road about half an hour, but we were going slower, so . . .”

“So should be seeing it pretty soon, right?” Jared’s voice still carried the slight edge it had had when Jensen was practically begging him to come and help.

“I like Chad. He gives me candy.” A little voice piped up causing Jensen to look down at the little boy that was ‘driving’ his toy tractor up Jensen’s thigh.

“Noah.” Jared said not taking his eyes away from their search of the darkness.

“Yeah? I like candy, too.” Jensen said. “I like gummy bears.”

“I like gummy worms, ‘cause you can pull them and G.G. puts them in dirt pudding and I like the yellow and green one’s the best, but I like the red and the orange, too. And I like . . .”

“Noah. That’s enough. Let him drive. Okay, buddy?” Jensen watched as the small brown head next to him dropped down a bit. He knocked his knee against the tiny brown boot that hung off the seat and gave the boy a lopsided grin when he looked up.

“There!” Jensen white-knuckled the wheel as his head snapped up to follow Jared’s finger out of the windshield and into the dark blue dusk. He could make out the spotlight that Chris was no doubt flashing at them. “Go a bit further to the turn off.”

In another minute or so, he shifted down and pulled the truck up to the gate that blocked the field entrance.

“Should I . . .” He asked, but Jared had already thrown open the passenger door, his seat belt was still slowly climbing up to its starting position as he hurriedly climbed from the cab. 

“I wanna go.” Noah cried out as he watched Jared stride toward the gate.

“Your daddy will be right back, Noah. He’s just getting the gate.” Jensen tried to pacify the little guy next to him. “What other candy do you like?”

“He’s not . . .” Jensen glanced up as Jared jumped back into the truck and slammed the door.

“How did you guys see him in there?” Jared asked as Jensen inched the truck forward onto the soft soil of the newly turned field. His teeth clicked together and he could feel Noah’s body jolting beside him.

“Wasn’t as dark then . . . the spotlight caught a glint off the undercarriage. We climbed the fence. Didn’t see the gate.” He slowed the truck to stop as they pull abreast of the mangled vehicle.

“Noah, you stay in the truck, okay?”

“But I want to come.” If the situation hadn’t been as dire, Jensen would have smiled at the extending bottom lip that the little boy was showing at the injustice of it all. It was obvious that he practiced it often, no doubt with glowing success nearly every time.

“Noah, no. There might be a bull out or something. Your mom would have my hide if a bull got you. I’ll roll down the window okay?” Jared worked to mollify his nephew before he went into full on tantrum mode. “You can still see and hear me, okay?”

He lowered the window as promised as he snatched up the first aid kit that he had grabbed before they had left the house and shut the door on the massive pout that the little boy was throwing at him.

Jensen shrugged his shoulders at the little boy and hurried after the tall farmer.

“Hey.” Chris said as he watched the farmer fall to his knees next to Jim’s battered and bruised hired man.   
“Hey, Chad. How you doing?” Jared asked as he took a quick check of the fallen man’s pulse. He started snaking his hands lightly around Chad’s neck and the base of his skull after he lifted his own head from listening to Chad’s breathing. “How long has he been out?”  
“Um, a while now, I guess.” Chris said, cocking an eyebrow at Jensen.

As Jared let his hands drift slowly down one arm and then the other, he glanced up at Chris, and asked, “Was he awake when you found him? Did he say anything? Did he say what hurt?”

“He was awake. Really quiet. We gave him a little water and covered him up. That’s when Jensen left.” Chris said scowling at the brutish tone that Jared had spoken to him in.

“Did you move him at all? Please tell me you didn’t move him. If I’m to help . . .”

Jensen watched as Chris’ face started to turn red in the glare of the spotlight he was holding. He knew that Chris was pretty quick to temper, but now was not the time.

“We didn’t move him at all. He said he had crawled over here from there . . .” Jensen gestured into the darkness, “And tried to reach his CB but couldn’t.”

Jared nodded as he processed what he was told and continued to prod the unconscious man’s abdomen lightly. He lifted up his t-shirt and was met with an ugly array of mottled browns and blues on what was normally very pale skin. “Chad? Chad, can you hear me? It’s Jared, Chad, Jared Padalecki.”

There was no response but shallow breathing. Jared let his hands coast down to slender hips, but once they reached the abnormally shaped leg he looked up at Jensen.

“Okay, we got to get him to town. I wish I had more time to examine him, but . . . do you have anything straight or even long enough to use as a stretcher? You, I’m sorry I don’t know your name, will you check the back of his truck, see if he does.”

“Not now, Chris.” Was all Jensen said as he grabbed a starting-to-protest Kane and pulled him towards the back of the Toyota. He noticed that someone, possibly Chad had chipped the paint off the last three letters and had stuck a sticker baring the word ‘Yoda” over them. He left Chris to dig there as he started around his own truck.

“Hey, Mister Jensen.”

Jensen leaned into the truck and smiled as he saw that somehow Noah had dug all the change out of the weighted plastic trashcan in front of him. Jensen used it as a catchall and knew it housed pens, details as well as other random hardware. He hoped that the pocketknife he kept there was still at the bottom of the square container.

“Can I get out now?” 

“Tell you what, Noah. You stay in here and keep counting that money okay and when we get Chad to the doctor, you can have it. That seem like a good deal to you?” Jensen knew that bribing the kid would probably piss off his dad, but what the hell? His father seemed to be pissed already.

“Okay!”

“Now we’ll be a few more minutes, but then we’re going to head to town, so you keep on counting. And don’t touch anything sharp, okay kid?” He knocked against the door and hurried around to the back. He knew that they could use his sleeping bag and blankets, but they lacked the sturdiness that was needed to support a full sized man. His hand fell on his rifle in its case, buried deep below his belongings; it was not only a stupid and impractical idea, but he only had the one, which would leave them lopsided. His two fishing poles were long enough, but not strong enough. 

Jensen pulled his cap off by the brim and ran his free hand through his hair. The tire iron and the two fishing poles could be wrapped together with duct tape and then what, he mused silently.

“Jen! Come on.” Hearing Chris’s call, Jensen grabbed his sleeping roll and hurried back

“All I got is a sleeping bag, but if we hold it tight enough . . .” He hollered back as he grabbed his rolled up bag from the back. He rounded the two trucks to where Jared was still poking at the unconscious man and Chris stood there with two long pieces of lumber. Jensen raised his eyebrows in wonder.

“Found ‘em over by where he said he crawled from. Part of something, but they should work.” Chris grabbed the sleeping bag from Jensen’s hands and shook it out. Leaving it zipped he slid first one and then the other board into the bag. “See. Just like those carriers you see in the old World War II movies.”

“Yeah, just like.” Jensen said trying not to think of the slivers and probably rusty nails that had just found a new home in his bag. Maybe Jim’s washer was big enough to wash it.

“Okay. So lay it down next to him and . . .” Jared looked blankly at the man who was not Jensen for the first time. He recognized him as the smirker from before.

“Chris.” Kane supplied sharply.

“Okay, Chris. You take one end and Jensen the other and when I roll him, try to slide it as smoothly and as quickly as you can under him. I don’t want to jostle him any more than we have to.”

It didn’t go as smoothly or as quickly as Jared had hoped, but after one aborted attempt and with a helping hand from Jensen to keep the man’s head from flopping around so much as he gingerly lifted Chad’s damaged leg, they got him onto the improvised litter. 

Chris trotted back to the truck and lowered the tailgate and crawled in as Jared and Jensen, the spotlight tucked under Jared’s arm, slowly carried Chad to the makeshift ambulance. 

“What about his truck?” Jensen asked as he watched the little boys’ head pop up to watch through the back window. “Should we try the CB? Get a hold of Jim or something?”

“No time.” Jared replied as he and Chris tried to get the man centered onto the rest of the balled up blankets in the back. “I’ll tell Aldis where it is when we get Chad to the hospital. Do you remember how to get there? I . . . because I think I should stay back here with Chad . . . you know, just in case.”

“I . . . sure. The hospital or the Red Cross station?” Jensen answered, “We passed the station earlier . . .”

“It’s two blocks past the high school and then left for about three. Noah can point the way to the hospital. His mom works there.” Jared cut him off as he tucked the last spare blanket over Chad and switched off the spotlight. Tossing it and the first aid kit lightly into the truck he turned toward the cab. “He okay up there? I don’t want him crawling on Chad and making him any worse. And . . . seat belts. You’ve got seat belts up there.”

“Sure, yeah, he’s fine.” Jensen said reaching a comforting hand towards the taller man. Now that the initial surge of adrenaline was over, it seemed as if the farmer was shivering. “I’ll let him pick the music. You okay?”

“Yeah . . . I – uh . . . let’s just get going.” Jared nodded briskly. He looked at the questioning face of Chris, who still was crouched in the bed of the truck. “You might be more comfortable up front.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Jared climbed in as Chris crawled out and as soon as Jensen got them out of the field with as few bumps as possible they were speeding off to town.

 

***

 

“Who are you?” Jensen glanced sideways as Noah poked Chris in the leg.

“Um, I’m Chris. I work with Jensen. And who are you, little dude?”

“I’m Noah and I’m a cowboy.” 

“Cool.” Jensen heard Kane’s chuckling reply, “And how’s that workin’ for you.”

Jensen grinned into the darkness of the cab as he kept his eyes trained on the road being lit up by his headlights. They sped through the blackness towards Solace.

 

~***~~~**~~* Jared *~~**~~~***~

 

Chad’s eyes twitched in a flinch as the truck hit one of the small divots in the blacktop below them. Jared winced along with him in sympathy. He stooped to peer out the window beside him, but from his position and the darkness outside, he had no idea where they were. Lifting up, his head hit the roof of the camper shell as the truck hit another flaw in the road; Jared flinched and fought against the urge to knock on the window that separated the bed of the truck from the cab.

He stared down into the sleeping face of one of his neighbors and swallowed against the knot of panic that was steadily choking him. Jared knew that this was nothing like before. Chad wasn’t screaming in agony, he wasn’t visibly bleeding, and hell, he had made it twenty-four hours on his own, but that didn’t stop the icy spikes of his own memories from jamming themselves into his frontal lobe. 

Kneeling up a bit, Jared shifted awkwardly closer to the back of the truck and Chad’s grotesquely shaped lower left leg. It was broken, Jared knew, but if the blood flow had been compromised or the muscles and tendons had been torn too severely . . . No. He wasn’t going to be negative about this. Chad was alive, he might not be awake, but he was breathing. Jared felt the truck bump up under him, switching from the poorly maintained county road to the smoothness of the recently repaved highway. He felt his heart leap as the injured man’s eyes blinked open at the jolt.

“Chad? Hey, Chad, can you hear me?” Jared uttered, his voice rendered into a hoarse whisper from his own fear. “It’s Jared, Chad. We’re getting you to the hospital. Do you understand?”

As he spoke, Jared’s hand sought out that of his friend in the hope that if nothing else, Chad would give it a squeeze.

“Hey, can you hear me, Chad? Give my hand a squeeze if you can.” Jared willed his own hand to be as limp as the one it held. “Don’t leave us, Chad. Man, you can’t leave us. Jim needs you. Rich and Rob, they need you. And Beth needs you. And me . . . I can’t let you go, don’t you go leaving me too. You have to stay, okay? Come on buddy, stay strong, we’re almost there.”

Jared tilted his head back in an effort to stem the tears before they had a chance to slide down his face. Yesterday was scary, but this . . . this was as close to death as he’d been since . . . well, since Drew. He hated it then and he hated it now. One tear escaped, but he let it go. Swallowing roughly, he glanced around the bed of the truck and was struck by the organized clutter around him. 

His brow furrowed as he took in the state of his surroundings. Beside the makeshift bed of a foam pad for which his knees were thankful, a sleeping bag, blankets, and a pillow that Chad was currently resting on, there was a pair of milk crates stacked in the right front corner. Each crate had a cardboard box nestled within it, a small hole near the top of each one. Jared leaned forward a bit and nudged the upmost crate, testing it to see if it would come down on his patient, but he soon realized that the crates were wired together and then affixed somehow to the side of the truck.

Nestled in the opposite corner from the plastic crates was a single one, longer and made of wood, it reminded Jared of the old wooden orange boxes that his grandpa used to haul the pecan harvest in, but this one had a wooden vertical divider. Leaning over Chad, Jared could make out a small plastic tray had been screwed to the top side of the wooden box and on it was an alarm clock, a small snapping case for glasses, and various other odds and ends. It hits him right then. He’s in somebody’s home; he was kneeling next to someone’s bed. 

Who lives in their truck nowadays, but the homeless, the aimless, and drifters? Jared felt his stomach tighten. It was an irrational feeling, but he hoped that this truck belonged to either of the other two guys and not Jensen. Jensen didn’t seem the type to live in his vehicle.

Then again, he really didn’t know Jensen. Sure, he had heard him mentioned more than a few times by Jim, but mostly it was either in passing or when Jim had had a few and was telling some stories about the wild Saturday nights up in Wyoming.

Peeking through the window into the cab, he could see the dark haired guy gesturing at the lights of town while Jensen nodded at whatever he was saying. From this angle he couldn’t see Noah, but he was sure that Jensen was watching out for him. 

What is it about Jensen that is so appealing, Jared wondered, besides being about the most handsome man to come to Solace in years and he’s clearly is a compassionate guy, but still . . . Jared stared at Jim’s friend, his face alight in the glow of the dashboard lights. The strong nose and softly chiseled cheekbones caused a weird twinge in Jared’s gut, causing him to rub it idly.

He looked out the windshield and calculated that they were about five minutes from the edge of town. Letting his gaze drift down from the distance and into the immediate, Jared caught a flicker of movement directly in front of him. Lifting his eyes again, he noticed the whiteness of teeth biting into a bottom lip. Pushing a deep breath out, Jared flitted his eyes up and found himself suddenly breathlessly lost in the tender, yet worried green eyes staring back at him through the rearview mirror. 

He fell back on his hunches as the orange sodium glare from the first streetlight cut through the dusty side windows. Only a few more minutes, he thought, and then he could go back home.

 

~***~~~**~~* Jensen *~~**~~~***~

 

He drove past the Solace High School, where the white tents out front were now empty and flapping in the evening breeze. There were lights on though and Jensen could make out the milling crowd inside. The street was still lined with debris, but the lanes were clear; Jensen was thankful for that. He looked down at the little boy that was napping against his ribs and shook his head.

“He said two blocks and then left?” He asked Chris, who replied with an affirmative as he craned his head around to look back at the school.

Jensen hit his blinker, shifting down to make the turn. It was only a few minutes later when the white wooden sign lit by ground lights proclaimed them to be at the Solace Mercy Hospital. He followed the access drive around to the right, following the red arrow for emergency.

Chris unfastened his seatbelt and was sliding from his seat as Jensen coasted to a stop in front of the ER doors. By the time the truck shuttered to a stop, his friend was jogging towards the doors, causing them to slide effortlessly open. Jensen threw on the brake, climbed out himself, and was striding to the tailgate when he was overtaken by a flurry of people in scrubs.

“What have we got?” A doctor in a flapping white coat asked, while he pulled his stethoscope from his pocket. Jensen was momentarily speechless at the messy shock of dark brown hair and the clear blue eyes right in front of him; he stuttered to a stop before he could formulate a reply.

“Chad Lind . . . uh, Lind-something, works for Jim Beaver.” He reached out then and threw open the latch for both the camper and the tailgate.

“Lindberg. Hey, Jared.” The doctor said, “How’s he doing.”

Jensen stepped back as the farmer unfolded his enormous body from the confining space. He heard him speak, but the words were drowned out in the bustle that was circling the truck. A gurney was brought out and he saw Kane cornered by a pretty blond nurse with a clipboard. Jensen leaned his shoulders against the side of the truck next to his open door and watched as Jared and the doctor worked at lifting Chad out of the back. It was just a matter of minutes before everyone scurried inside following the rescued man, leaving Jensen and a sleeping Noah alone in the night air.

Shutting up the bed compartment, Jensen walked around and shut Chris’ door before he climbed in the truck and pulled it forward into a proper parking place. Stepping out of the truck again, he snagged an empty paper coffee cup from the floor and slid as much of the change that he could find on the seat into it. Tucking it roughly into the pocket of his hoodie, he reached in and removed the boy’s seat belt.

“Come on, Noah. We need to go find your dad.” Jensen hefted the boy into his arms and closed the door behind them.

Jensen didn’t have a lot of experience with kids, none at all in fact, but as the child curled an arm over his shoulder and breathed softly against his neck, he understood how parents could become so overprotective. Hell, he thought, he had watched as the boy’s daddy puffed up like a surly bear when he caught Jensen asking for directions earlier. Was that only hours ago, Jensen pondered as Noah’s boots kept a steady beat against his thighs. He heard a soft mumble beneath his ear, not loud enough to disturb the quiet of the night and he smiled down at the innocence in his arms.

The doors swept open before him and chaos engulfed them.

 

***

 

A tall woman with her dark hair twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck stood nearly toe to toe with Jared, her arms flung wildly at her sides. Jensen guessed that this was his wife and Noah’s mom. He glanced to the right where a nurse in a set of scrubs covered in teddy bears shoved a bulky piece of equipment behind a floating blue curtain as another nurse came out with a tray full of something. Beyond Jared and his missus was Chris, a sly smile on his face as he still was cornered by the increasingly scowling blond.

“Who the hell is Jensen, Jared?” Jensen flinched as the woman’s voice seemed to overtake the voices of everyone else.

“He’s a friend of Jim’s. Came down from up north to help out.” Jared stretched a hand out to settle lightly on her shoulder, an act that he probably should have reserved for when she was calmer as Jensen watched her shake it off angrily. “He was belted in at all times and he didn’t see anything.”

“You didn’t even have the car seat? What the hell were you thinking?”

“We had to move fast, Meg. Get to Chad.”

“Dammit, Jared. Where’s my son?” Jensen’s eyebrows shot up and his free arm wrapped protectively around the boy as he watched his momma shove Jared.

“Megan. Jared. You guys need to take it outside. Megan, you’re still on duty for another couple of hours, so act like it.” The doctor had stepped out from behind the curtain and his steely voice stopped the pair in front of him. Jensen wished for that magical hole that was supposed to open up and swallow him completely right then as the doctors’ piercing stare lit on him. He nodded towards Jensen and elbowed the curtain aside “Noah’s alright. It’s Chad we need to be worrying about right now.”

“Give him to me!” He hadn’t even seen her move until she was right there. Jensen tried not to cling to the boy as the woman pulled him from his arms. Noah woke with a cry, more startled than hurt; his sobbing filled the room for the few seconds that he was there before his mom took him into another room.

The silence that was left behind was more unsettling than the child’s tears. Jensen looked over at Chris, who for once didn’t have a witty comment and merely shrugged his shoulders. He then looked to where Jared stood, right where he had been before, his arms crossed tightly across his chest and his head bowed. Jensen could tell, even through the curtain of chestnut hair, that his eyes were tightly closed. Taking a few quick breaths, Jensen walked over to Jim’s neighbor, his boots echoing softly on the polished tile floor.

“Hey, man . . . sorry about that.” He lifted a hand out to touch him on the elbow, before thinking twice and shoving it into the pocket of his dirty jeans. “I –“

“No. I’m sorry. We’re sorry. Or Meg will be when she calms down.” Jensen watched as trouble swirled through the murky green eyes in front of him as Jared looked up. “She . . . her ex . . . She hasn’t had it easy, you know?”

“I get it.” Jensen replied. He didn’t really, but who was he to these people? A stranger. Sure, he was a friend of Jim’s, but still a nobody in their daily lives; someone who was causing even more trouble in their newly mixed up world. “You should . . .”

Jensen gestured towards the door that Noah and his mom disappeared behind. Looking back at Jared, he watched as the big man’s shoulders fell a bit and a weary sigh escaped.

“Yeah.” He turned but then turned back to Jensen. “Thanks, Jensen. I’m sure Chad will thank you too, when he wakes up that is.”

“No problem. Really. We came to help out.” He stuck out his hand and like earlier in the day, the warmth of the larger man radiated up his arm. Letting go reluctantly, he watched as the man pivoted and started down the hall. “Wait!”

Jared stopped and looked back over his shoulder as Jensen hurried towards him. Jensen dug a hand into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the paper cup of change. He ran his fingers around a few times and collected the few that had fallen stray along the seam. Dropping the remaining coins into the cup, Jensen thrust it at Jared. 

“What’s this?” Jared cocked his head at the strange gift.

“For Noah.” Jensen felt a flush starting to highlight his cheeks. “I promised him any change he found was his, if he would stay in the truck. Uh, when we were out there, that is. So –“

“He doesn’t need –“

“I know, but I promised him.” Jensen knocked the cup into Jared’s forearm. “Just take it, Jared. Put in his piggy bank, buy him some candy, I don’t know, just . . . I keep my promises, okay?”

Jensen turned and walked back to the waiting room, shoulders back and chin up. He kept his back straight as he sank into one of the brown vinyl sofas, the cushions surprising yielding, then he slumped forward and let his forearms rest upon his knees. He felt a bit like Alice really, from that old Disney movie; tumbling willy-nilly down the rabbit hole. What the hell, was he doing in Texas, a place he swore to himself that he would never go again?

Looking around the nearly deserted waiting room, Jensen found that his eyes kept straying to the door behind which Jared had disappeared. Sighing, he rubbed a hand wearily across his face. He didn’t know what it was that made the farmer so damned appealing . . . okay, that was a lie. Physically the man was possibly one of the finest men that Jensen had ever seen, but the fact that he had a wife and a kid was definitely like a big flashing neon sign, blinking out ‘No Chance, Loser.’

Fine, he thought bullishly, I’ll do what needs to be done at Jim’s and then I’m out of here. Letting his gaze sweep the room again, Jensen was startled to catch the pretty blonde nurse that had cornered Christian earlier, staring at him. A nervous, worried expression pulling her flawless skin in directions that he was sure it had never been before. She started when she realized that he was looking back and dropped her look to the sheaf of forms in her hands.

Jensen got up and paced a few times before grabbing a dog-eared hunting and fishing magazine from the hanging plastic rack on the wall. 

Less than a half an hour later, Jim and Steve rushed through the door. Chris rejoined them and was soon filling them in on the night’s daring rescue mission. Jensen, wise to Chris’s superior story telling opted to stay quiet, adding only his part about going to get Jared and deliver him back to where Chris and Chad were. He could see the questions building in the older man’s eyes, but Jim held them in, which made Jensen wonder what they were. He was sure he would hear about them soon enough. 

Kane should be a DJ, Jensen thought briefly, as he watched his friend weave a gripping tale.

A leggy, lithe blond woman hurried through the sliding doors a short time later and Jim rose to meet her at the Nurses’ desk. Jensen let his gaze wander from them back to the still closed door that the Padalecki’s had disappeared behind. He hoped they were all all right and had made up; they looked like a nice family.

Jim led the visibly shaken woman over to their group and introduced her as Beth Riesgraf, Chad’s girlfriend that he had been visiting up until his mad dash back to Solace. Chris re-launched into his story for her sake, but Jensen didn’t need to hear it again. After assuring that Jim would give the other two a ride back to the farm, he made his goodnights and headed for the doors; Jim walked him out.

 

***

 

“You okay, boy?”

“Yeah, just tired I guess. I did most of the driving last night and after tonight . . . I just need to get some shut eye.” Jensen headed for the truck as Jim kept pace beside him.

“Okay. Just makin’ sure.” Jim replied, “Hey, was gonna ask you, how did you get Jared to help you guys out tonight?”

“Wha . . . I don’t know. Just asked I guess. He said he knew Chad and everything. I figured it was because he knew you all as well. Being neighborly. Why?” Jensen leaned against the truck and tilted his head back against the camper shell. He could feel the cold metal frame of the window running across the base of his skull.

“Jared. Well, he . . . he was in a bad accident a few years back. Lost his friend. Just is that the boy shies away from everything dangerous now. Hates hospitals, accidents, blood . . . hell, I thought he was gonna lose it last year when one of the sheep got gored by a wild boar.”

“I didn’t know –“Jensen started.

“Didn’t say ya did, son. Just wondering. He was the right one to go to, you know. He was damned near a paramedic when . . . well, before he moved back to Solace.”

“Jared’s a paramedic?” Jensen couldn’t keep the surprised tone from his voice as he swiveled his head towards Jim. “That explains how carefully he checked Chad out when we were out there.”

“Almost. He dropped out after Drew . . . you know it’s not my place to say, but when Drew died, I think a big part of Jared did too.” Jensen watched as his oldest friend pulled the zip up on his jacket. He could tell that Jim wasn’t telling him something.

“What happened? Did . . . He didn’t have Noah with him did he?”

“Noah?” Jim cocked an eyebrow at Jensen. “Nope pretty sure that Noah was down with his parents in Houston when the accident happened. It was an ice storm, massive pile up on the 35.”

“Ouch. Ice and Texas doesn’t mix. I . . . wait! Noah isn’t Jared’s? I thought he and Meg –“

Jensen gave Jim a dark look as the man slapped his thigh in laughter. He crossed his arms and waited until Jim was barely chuckling.

“So, if Noah isn’t Jared’s . . .” he twisted his hand on his wrist in the standard ‘go ahead’ motion.

“Noah, well, that little pistol belongs to Meg, who I believe you met earlier.” Jim laughed again at Jensen’s wince. “And some abusive sonovabitch from Houston named Crawford. She wised up pretty quickly and moved here to get away from the cheatin’ bastard.”

“So, Jared is –“

“Jared is Noah’s uncle, Meg’s brother, Ellie’s grandson, and a hell of a guy. You’d think that he could whistle the Star-Spangled Banner out his asshole for how much everybody loves that guy. Hell, I love the kid. Always helpful, considerate, kinda like someone else I could name.” Jim said, slugging Jensen lightly in the arm. “I knew you guys would get along if you ever met.”

“Barely met . . . I didn’t know, you know? Kept calling him ‘daddy’ to Noah and I’m pretty sure I called Noah his son a few times. I . . . Christ, I bet he thinks I’m a fool.” Jensen ran a hand through his hair.

“Nah, Jared’s pretty easy-going. ‘Sides, I’m sure he doesn’t think you’re a fool. Might think you’re pretty cute, what with those girlish freckles.”

“Screw you, Jim.” This time it was Jensen who cuffed Jim in the shoulder.  
“Really, son. I know Jared and if I were a bettin’ man, I would throw down a hundred-to-one that you were just his type.” Jim laughed as he watched Jensen ‘get’ it. “Dotes on Noah as if he were his own, you know, seeing as any romantic entanglements he will ever get into will not produce a kid, if you get what I mean.”

“I . . .he . . . I came down to help you, Jim.”

“I know you did, boy. And I thank you for that. Really. You guys have been here less than a few hours and you’ve already saved me a farm hand.” Jensen could sense Jim sobering next to him.

“It wasn’t anything. We –“ 

“It was, Jen. Look, learn to take a compliment, will ya? You guys are practically heaven-sent right now. Even Kane. I just think that you and Jared . . . well, you guys will be friends that much I know for sure. I just . . . well, he isn’t the Jared Padalecki I first met when I came down here, but then you aren’t the same Jensen Ackles I met all those years ago either. Take it from me, someone who knows you both. Life isn’t fair. It never will be, but sometimes it seems a bit more even when you don’t have to face it alone. You can stand to have somebody else in your corner, Jen.” Jensen felt Jim shove up off the side of the truck and turn towards him extending his hand. “See ya at home, boy?”

Jensen nodded as he shook Jim’s hand, the calluses scratching lightly across the back of his hand.

“Can’t believe this old beast is still runnin’.” Jim slapped a hand against the tailgate and lifted it in a single wave as he headed back to the hospital.

“Hey.” Jensen called after him, but Jim just laughed as the doors swished open.

 

***

 

Jensen turned in his bed in the back of his truck, the slamming of car doors waking him from an uneasy sleep. 

“You s’pose we should wake him?” Chris’s blessedly quiet voice bled through the night mixing with the wind rustling the leaves above the Ford.

“Nah.” Steve replied just as Jim spoke.

“He still sleepin’ in his truck most the time?”

“Yeah. When it’s really cold and bitter, or when he’s havin’ a real bad night, sometimes Steve or I can convince him to take a sofa, but . . .”

Jensen didn’t hear the rest of what Chris was saying as the screen door of the house thwacked shut behind his friends. Pulling the covers more securely around him, Jensen buried his nose in the soft flannel underside of his grandma’s quilt. It was one of the few family possessions he had left since fleeing the house in Chicago. 

He could have stayed, he knew that, but life would have been unbearable. His friends were getting kicked out of school as was he, the man he thought loved him had turned his back on him, his parents believed him to be a liar, a pervert, and a rapist. The only thing they wouldn’t believe was that he was gay.

Jensen started silently counting backwards from a hundred while breathing deeply and soon fell back into his uneasy slumber.

 

***

 

_“Yo, Ackles!”_

_Jensen turned to see Wade Carter ambling towards him from in front of the chemistry building. It should have pinged somewhere upstairs that one did not see Carter without his omnipresent hetero-life partner Seth Lindsey, but Jensen was a bit pre-occupied at the moment. So when what felt as if a life-size giggling scarecrow full of shit slammed into the back of him, he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was._

_“Get off!” Jensen wheezed as his body bent low enough to tumble the boy with the unruly blond curls over his head to flop on the frozen ground in front of him._

_“You totally didn’t see that coming.” Carter said punching Jensen none too lightly in the bicep before he extended one of his long arms down to offer a hand to his best friend and roommate. Jensen would agree, but he was still trying to regain his composure._

_He had met Carter during his second semester at Saint Sebastian’s, when they were both went to the lacrosse team’s spring tryouts. They both had made the team, along with a quiet blond that Jensen had never heard speak before . . . and he had had two classes with him first semester. It was hard to believe that that same meek boy was the boisterous prankster named Lindsey._

_“Hey, Ackly-dack-aly. You excited for tonight?” Lindsey feigned a shot at Jensen’s gut before he too slugged him, albeit more gently, in the same arm that Wade had hit. “We got a keg, so beer pong is a total go.”_

_“I . . . don’t you think that a keg is, well, a bit much?” Jensen asked as all three fell into step as they started the journey to the other side of campus where their dorm was located. There’s only going to be a handful of the team there. “What with Smith and Bryant already gone and Evans, Pine and Knight flying out tonight. Who’s that leave?”_

_“All’s the more for the rest of us. What you scared that your ‘Daddy’s’ gonna find out? Gonna ground you?” Lindsey said careening into him. “Besides, no more school until January. So who cares if we get caught? They can’t touch us until next semester and they most like will have forgotten by then.”_

_“Yeah. And since Martin and Bobby are playing host, we won’t even be on school grounds.” Wade stated smugly, as if the mid-season holiday gathering had been his idea. “Rumor has it there’s going to be some entertainment as well. Bobby said that he sprung for some gift for us to unwrap.”_

_Jensen watched as both of his teammates mimed air quotes from either side of him._

_“Unwrap?” Jensen wondered out loud._

_“Yep, but neither he nor Martin are tellin’. Some big surprise that they said that they had been discussing, when and if we made the playoffs.” Wade replied._

_“And we made the playoffs, we made the playoffs.” Lindsey chanted as he skipped lightly around the other two. He stumbled a bit as his foot hit the pavement that was the sidewalk that led up to their dorm, but he righted himself in a rather ungainly, yet nearly spectacular hop and jump._

_“You are such an ass.” Jensen said as he stepped up onto the concrete himself._

_“So come on. Let’s drop this shit off and hit Pizza Pagoda before we head over.” Lindsey said as he walked backwards in front of his friends._

_“Oo . . . let’s get the Kitchen Sink. I’m starving!” Wade said, patting his lean stomach. Yeah, you’re just wasting away, Jensen thought as he cocked a sidelong eyebrow at the taller man. The Kitchen Sink had every ingredient from the Pagoda’s extensive list as well as extra cheese and extra pepperoni._

_“I got a meeting first. So you guys go without me and I’ll be there later.” Jensen said, dropping his eyes to the cool grey cement below his feet._

_“A meeting?” Seth cried as he grabbed Jensen’s arm. “A meeting? But it’s the holidays. Nobody’s going to be doing anything around here for weeks.”_

_“It’s my psychology professor. I . . . it’s about my classes next semester.” Jensen explained._

_“Bullshit! You just don’t want to go. You always have some excuse. I’m studying. I have to spend time with my mom. I’m on my period. Jesus, Jensen, grow a pair. Call him and tell him that you can meet him tomorrow.” Lindsey’s voice was getting louder; the falsetto of the mocking had gotten squeakier with each word._

_“I actually want to graduate, unlike you bastards.” Jensen replied hotly._

_“But it’s Christmas break, Jens. Can’t you just email him or something?” Carter pleaded._

_“Look. My appointment is at 4:30 and it shouldn’t take too long. I’ll swing by the Pagoda and if you guys aren’t there, I’ll head for Martin and Bobby’s. Okay?” Jensen hated having to wheedle his friends, but they had a point. He didn’t like going to the team gatherings, especially those not necessarily sanctioned by the university._

_More often than not, he could come up with a reasonable excuse and in the absence of one he would put in an appearance and then disappear when nobody was looking. He wasn’t comfortable in the bro-man culture of his teammates and he hated having to pretend to flirt with all the Brittany’s and Courtney’s, when he would rather be checking out the Brian’s and the Curt’s. Not that anyone on his team knew that._

_Hell, nobody knew as far as he could tell and that’s just how he wanted to keep it. He just had to make it to graduation and then get a job; then it wouldn’t matter if anyone knew that he peeked in the shower or thought that Casper Van Dien was hot in Starship Troopers (a movie he had seen at least ten times in the theater) or that he fantasized daily about his psych professor._

_“Okay?” He asked again, purposefully making eye contact with both Wade and Seth. “I promise that I’ll be there.”_

_“Fine. But if you don’t show, you might want to start keeping your room locked.” Carter replied airily._

_“And your laptop, too. We would hate to see what kind of virus would pop-up on that.” Lindsey added, aiming for menacing, but coming across rather moronic._

_“I’ll be there.” Jensen re-affirmed as he held the door open for all three of them._

With Lindsey’s hyena laugh still ringing in his ears, Jensen jerked awake in the periwinkle dawn of eastern Texas.

Sniffing in the chilly air, Jensen could hear the birds starting to call in the trees above him. There was a definite sweetness on the breeze as he flexed his toes and sat up in his bed.

“Why Texas, Jim?” Jensen muttered as he reached for his duffle of clean clothes.


	4. Chapter 4

A few final drops of coffee sizzled on the base of the coffee maker as Jensen grabbed the carafe to fill his bright yellow thermal mug. It had once held the image of an annoyingly festive roadrunner, the logo for a chain of convenience stores that he frequented when working in western Nebraska. He scratched at the decal that once was part of an orange leg with his thumb as he waited for the stoutly brewed java to hit his blood stream.

Jensen had liked that job, counting saplings for the US Forest Service at the Halsey State Forest, and they liked him, enough so that they had him back for another season before it was deemed necessary to have at least a bachelor’s degree to work there. Yeah, Jensen thought grumpily, making little ticks on a clipboard required higher math.

The forestry job was just one of many that he had held since Jim had up and moved to Texas, but it was the one of three that he would go back to in a heartbeat. The money wasn’t great but the solitude of the trees more than made up for it.

Topping off his mug, he snapped the red lid on tight and took another tentative sip of the scalding liquid. Glancing out into the hazy light of the pre-dawn, he could see the small square of light that signified that someone was up out in the bunkhouse. It was probably Chris getting ready for Ellie, his new boss to stop by and pick him up for his shift at the diner. 

They had all gone in the morning after they got to town as Jim wanted to introduce them around and the diner seemed like the best idea to do both that and to grab some food, seeing how Jim wasn’t prepared for three more mouths to feed. Ninety minutes later, they headed back to the farm a man down, leaving Chris with his hair tied back in a bandana and a crisp white apron manning the grill.

Apparently the regular cook, a woman by the name of Sam had fractured her arm in her haste to reach safety during the storm and now was stuck serving coffee and ringing up tabs. And she looked none too happy about the fact; Jensen remembered thinking at the time. Still, he thought as he turned off the coffee maker and gave the pot a quick swish under the tap; they had come down to help out. 

In the week since he and the boys had arrived, it seemed as if they were all able to help out in their own way. Chris at the diner, Jensen took after the orchard and Steve seemed to find his niche helping out Rich, Jim’s man from town, as they worked the livestock together. Yeah, things were working out pretty well.

He could be staying in the bunkhouse with the guys and Rob, especially since there was currently a free bed, what with Chad firmly ensconced in a hospital bed in Dallas for the next week or so, but Jensen preferred to sleep in his truck. In the past few years he had developed the habit of getting up with the sun, seeing how most of his jobs required it and working until dark. Besides, Carlson snored like a pen full of pigs at feeding time.

Reaching up to shut off the light under the stove hood, Jensen’s hand brushed against a slip of paper being held precariously to the dingy metal by a one-antlered ceramic jackalope. The magnet started to slide a bit and in his haste to save it the paper fluttered to the floor at his feet. Jensen grinned at the little lopsided mythical creature, the words Douglas, WY, stamped across its hind end. Securing the magnet he stooped and fetched the paper.

“Eat Dammit!” he read the note in Jim’s messy scrawl. His grin slipped into a full-fledged smile at his friend’s version of tough love. 

Jensen glanced around the small, but tidy kitchen, trying to figure out what would keep the longest in the warm sun of a Texas springtime. A few moments later he was on the way to the orchard with his coffee, a couple of bottles of water tucked into his back pockets, a hastily assembled sandwich, an apple, and a paper towel with the most decadent sweet roll he had ever seen. The top was cover nearly in its entirety with chopped pecans in a sticky syrup of brown sugar caramel.

The sun was starting to lighten the eastern sky in front of him, but it would be an hour or more before the moist morning fog would burn off and everyone else was up and starting their day. He took a bite of the pastry and groaned as the sweetness exploded across his tongue.

 

~***~~~**~~* JARED *~~**~~~***~

 

“And then Big Lyndell tells me that his car should come first, being that it was his only one and all. I’ll tell you what, I said. You can wait in line like everyone else or I’ll tell Debbie about that trip you took to New Orleans last year when she was over in Lubbock at her momma’s.” Jared smiled into the lip of his coffee cup as the one of Solace’s two mechanics (the only one that knew what he was doing), entertained the regulars at the diner with his tales from Brown’s Garage and Towing.

“You wouldn’t dare.” stated Mitch, one of the farmers from the other side of town.

“You’ve known me how long, Johnson?” Sterling laughed. “You know I damn well would.”

Jared heard Sterling’s nephew, Aldis mumbles something around a mouthful of toast. He wasn’t sure, but it sounded a lot like “Old coot sure would.”

“You boys getting enough?” Sam leaned over the table and topped off everyone’s coffee, her casted arm resting awkwardly across Jared’s right shoulder.

“Hell, Sam. Ain’t been a day that I ever walked outta here anything less than stuffed. Compliments to the new boy, he knows his way around an omelet.” Sterling laughed as he dodged the slap upside the back of the head that Sam had set the coffee pot on the table to deliver.

“Watch yourself, Brown.” She menaced playfully. Twisting lightly, her fingers ruffled the hair at Jared’s neck. “Where’s my little man? I was expecting some help with my dusting.”

Jared swallowed the mouthful of egg muffin he had just taken a bite of and dipped his head away from her tickling fingers.

“Meg’s got the day off finally, so she’s having him help out in cleaning up the rest of the inside of the house.”

“You and I both know that he’s going to make that job take twice as long.” Sam chuckled.

“I know that, but she hasn’t got to spend too much time with him lately, what with picking up extra shifts and nearly every bed full over at the hospital. Besides, she thinks I’m too easy with him and that it’ll take all day to get the brat I put into him out.”

“Ha. Take more than a day, I’d guess.” She grabbed the pot and headed off to a different table, greeting Jim Beaver as he walked in the door. 

Jim went behind the counter to help himself to a cup of coffee before he snagged a free chair from the table next to Jared’s and with a nudge to Aldis’s shoulder, wedge himself in next to Jared.

“Morning, Beaver.”

“Brown.” Jim answered gruffly, nodding to the lot of them. “Boys.”

“Say Jim, Noah and I are headed into Dallas tomorrow. Got to replace our chickens and do a few other errands. Want to ride along?” Jared asked as he pushed his now empty plate away from him and pulled his coffee cup closer. “Probably stop in and see Lindy, if we got time.”

“Damn. I’d like to, got a few supplies I need to grab myself, but I finally got the adjuster coming tomorrow to look over that damage, so I best stick around home.” 

Jared understood what Jim was saying. He wasn’t home at first on Friday when the insurance adjustor came out to their place and even though the guy was a friend of his brother’s he had tried to lowball everything to his grandma. The man in the suit was sure singing a different tune after Jared got out of his truck.. It only took his size and a quickly placed phone call to Jeff down in Austin.

“Sorry, that’s sucks. If you want to send a list or something for Chad . . .” 

“I’ll do you one better, boy. How ‘bout I send a list and another pair of muscles? I’m sure one of the boys needs to get away for the day. Some of them have been working pretty hard around home. Stop by when you’re ready to leave and I’ll have somebody waiting for you.” 

Jared had an uneasy feeling from the twinkle in the older man’s eyes.

 

***

 

_The hand smoothed slowly along his waist, pulling roughly at his shirttails until it could claw under his tee shirt and slide along the warm flesh Jensen’s lower back. He could feel the goose bumps raising and running along his arms and thighs. Jensen tipped his head back as the lips slipped wetly from his own, down his cheek to his neck._

_It was torment having to wait to feel this, Jensen thought, gasping hotly as the older man bit at the soft supple skin right below his ear. The sensation caused Jensen’s hips to thrust up against his partner’s and there they stayed due to wide hand jamming itself down the back of his jeans; one of the fingers teasing along the separation of skin beneath it._

_“Jeff, I . . .” Jensen panted out, trying to form the sentence in his mind first, but he was finding even breathing difficult. It had never been a secret between them; that Jensen was more than a bit inexperienced, but his mind was whirling between wantwantwant and waitwaitwait._

_The finger breached the cleft and tapped a naughty dance against his opening. Jensen’s gasp was stopped in his own throat by his lover’s aggressive tongue. Pushing in and sealing off any voice of reason. The kisses that followed were bordering on violent. Jensen shuttered at the sheer desire he was dealing with, both his and Jeff’s._

_“You want this, Jensen. You’ve wanted this since that very first day. I saw you looking at me in class and I could tell. I knew then and I know now. You want to give yourself to me.” Jeff licked at the corner of his mouth. Jensen could taste the coppery tang of blood. “You want to be owned by me.”_

_The hand down his pants pulled him impossibly tighter against the hard body in front of him. He could feel Jeff’s cock pushing against his abdomen._

_The fingertip pushed dryly in, causing Jensen to buck even closer to the older man. His brain was telling him that it was too fast, too new, too soon to be doing this, but his body sought the release of months of desire._

_“I don’t think –“ Jensen started again, hoping to slow the man in front of him down._

_“No. Don’t think. Let it go. Let me show you what you’ve been doing to me for the past two semesters. Let me help you to understand what you are to me.” Jeff was panting in Jensen’s ear. The hand not occupied below, was fisted in the back of Jensen’s shirt, causing the thin fabric to pull tautly against his Adam’s apple.  
Jeff crowded against him, leaving his partially seated position on the desk, to shove himself bodily against his student; Jensen was trapped against the wall then, the finger was shoved a bit more into his passage._

_“Jeff.” Jensen moaned out the name, burying his head against his professor’s shoulder. He was losing his mind; or rather his mind was losing the battle. He could smell the musk that was starting to grow between their sweaty bodies. A button was pulled from his shirt, pinging somewhere off to his left._

_“Yeah, baby. Let me show you. Let me be the man you want me to be.” Another bite was administered, this time to the junction between his neck and his shoulder. The finger pulled mostly out, before worming its way back in._

_Jensen was terrified, terrified that this might be too much for him, that he might not be enough for the man that he had been dreaming about for so long; he was terrified that his dad might find out._

_Jeff’s stubble started a blazing path over his face as his father’s best friend rained small kisses over his heated cheeks with spit-wet lips. Jensen was lost._

“Je-“

Jensen winced as the coffee that he just poured into his mug sloshed out onto the back of his hand. He turned to see who had snuck up on him and tapped his shoulder in the barely lit kitchen.

“You were a million miles away, son.” Jim reached for a clean coffee cup from the draining rack next to the sink; his eyes followed the younger man’s hands as he cleaned up the spilled beverage. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“I’m okay, you just startled me.” Jensen replied tucking the dampened towel through the oven handle to dry. “What are you doing up so early? I thought the point of being boss was to make your grunts do all the hard labor while you’re snoozing away.”

“Always you with the smart mouth; I think you been spending too much time with Kane.” Jim popped open the plastic container on the counter and withdrew the last of the pecan sweet rolls. He offered it to Jensen, but at the younger man’s shake of the head, he stuffed an ungodly sized portion into his mouth. Jensen gave a half-hearted smirk at the traces of syrup clinging to Jim’s beard.

“So?” he asked while Jim chewed happily away in front of him.

“ _Tasht laq emmen_.”

“Want to repeat that when you’ve swallowed?” Jensen replied wryly. Cocking a hip against the counter, he nudged Jim’s coffee closer to the chewing man and then crossed his arms to wait. After a few moments and a sip and then gulp of coffee, Jim answered him.

“I said it tastes like heaven, you pain in the ass.”

“I know it does. I had one yesterday morning. What I was waiting for was the answer to my first question.”

“Which was?” Jim asked taking a much smaller bite this time around.

“What are you doing up so earlier?” Jensen repeated allowing an exasperated edge creep into his voice.

“Well, since it’s my house, I don’t s’pose I gotta answer that.” Jim fought to keep his features in a stern manner. It was a losing battle as he started chuckling the minute that Jensen’s eyebrows climbed almost as high as his hairline. “Jesus, kid. I’m just messin’ with ya.”

“I know that.”

“Ah-uh. I s’pose you do. Actually, I got up to catch you before you went out to work. I gotta ask a favor.”

“Anything, Jim, you know that.”

“I was hoping you would say that. Come on into the office then.” Jensen grabbed his mug and followed Jim down the dark hallway.

 

***

 

“So did y’all come through Dallas on your way down?” Jared asked trying to draw the man in his passenger seat into conversation. So far it was a tough row to hoe, seeing how he mostly got either one-word answers or a shrug and they had already driven far enough that the Dallas skyline was sparkling in the morning sun.

“North of Plano, actually.” Jensen pushed his sunglasses back into place. He had had them for so long that the bows were stretched and they continually slid down his nose.

“Ever been into Dallas? Pretty town, but glad I don’t live there. Way too much going on for me.” Jared looked into the rearview mirror where he could see that Noah was still zonked out in his booster seat. “I guess I was born to be a farmer. That the same for you? Working the land and all?”

“I . . .” 

Jared watched as Jensen sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth. It wasn’t the first time that he had witnessed it this morning; a nervous tic or something, he thought.

“I . . . look, I’m sorry about think that Noah was your son. I didn’t know . . . and . . . well, Jim set me straight. That night at the hospital, he told me that Noah belongs to Megan and that Megan is your sister, so . . . um, sorry, okay?”

“What?!?!” Jared gripped the wheel tighter and fought to keep the Ford in his lane. Seriously, Jensen was worried that he was mad? About Noah? He felt the nervous laughter trying to bubble up his throat. Jared cleared his throat a few times before he spoke again.

“Wow. That’s the most I ever heard you say at one time, dude.”

Jensen scowled at him and muttered an apology.

“Hell, don’t apologize. I’ve been bustin’ my balls trying to get you to speak since we left Solace. Contrary to what some may say, I don’t talk just to hear the sound of my own voice. Sometimes I like to have conversations, too.” This time a small laugh escaped and punctuated his statement.

“Sorry . . .”

“Look.” Jared released the pressure his foot was applying to the gas and the truck slowed. “Quit apologizing, okay? I’m not mad. Why would I be? Noah’s a great kid and the fact that I get to spend a lot of time with him is amazing.” 

“I was saying sorry . . . um, for being so quiet. I spend a lot of time alone and . . . sometimes, well; sometimes I forget how to carry a conversation.” Jensen smiled wanly as Jared grinned back at him, his hazel eyes sparkling in the brightness of the sun, and reapplied the gas. “And yeah, Noah is a great kid.”

“Is that even possible, what with spending time with Kane?” Jared chuckled.

Jensen laughed quietly as the panoramic view of Dallas filled the width of the windshield.

 

***

 

“And then Chad yells something along the lines of ‘cowabunga’ or ‘Geronimo’, I don’t remember which and he fell off the cliff into the water below . . . Noah, eat your corn, buddy, or no dessert . . . Anyway, when he comes bobbing up, he takes this huge gulp of his beer. I don’t know how he kept a hold of it all the way down and then spits it out. Just like in the movies.” Jared wipes at his eyes as he keeps laughing about his favorite Lindberg story. “I guess maybe he was too drunk to realize that the can had filled with slimy green pond water.”

Jensen laughed along as he looked down to mop up the steak juice with the last of his dinner roll. It wasn’t an act that he really needed his eyes for, but if he looked up he knew that he would be sucked into the double black holes that were Jared’s dimples. He had known the first time that they flashed in the truck that they would become a weakness for him.

“So yeah, Lindy’s a nut. I’m not sure why Jim keeps him around, whether it’s because he’s a hard worker or if it’s just purely for the comic relief.”

“He looked good. At the hospital, I mean.” Jensen replied taking a sip of his iced tea. “Well as good as could be expected. Last time I saw him was when he was being lifted out of my truck.”

Jared looked up then from where he was pointing at the last few bites that Noah had to take before he was considered done. So it was Jensen’s truck, he remembered think that night that it looked like someone was living in it. He cocked his head thoughtfully.

“Oh . . . I thought it was Steve’s truck.”

“Nope, bought it off Jim back in ’01, been trying to keep it running ever since. If I didn’t like Jim so much, I would think that he had been trying to screw me over back then.” Jensen laughed.

“That was in Wyoming, right? I guess I didn’t realize that you and Jim went back that far.” Jared murmured as he handed Noah his small kid cup of juice.

“Yeah. I’ve known Jim since . . .” Jared watched as Jensen looked into the distance for a brief moment, he was mesmerized by the man’s startling clear green eyes. Jensen dropped his gaze back to Jared’s, across the booth from him and smiled shyly. “1999. Met him at a truck stop when I was looking for work and Jim took pity on a poor wayward soul.”

“Back in ’99, what were you, like seventeen? Dude, you were lucky that it was Jim and not some hulking, sweaty trucker.” Jared scoffed lightly.

“I was twenty-one, thank you very much. And smart enough to stay away from the great sweaty truckers of the world.” Jensen huffed out and then laughed lightly. “Besides, I had no idea what I was doing, so it was Jim who really got the wrong end of the deal back then.”

“So you still got a place up north?” Jared asked trying hard not to sound like he was fishing.

“Nah. Haven’t had one since Jim moved down here. Bob, that’s Jim’s brother and his wife offered to keep me on. Nice folks, really. Just, well, Bertie kind over-mothers all the guys and if I were to stay there.” Jared smiled at Jensen’s mock shiver. “Anyway, I just go where the jobs are.”

“That’s got to be . . . interesting. Educational.” Jared replied diplomatically, inside he thought the idea of always being on the move sounded terrible and taxing.

“It can be. Most of the time it’s just plain tiring and . . . well, you know what kind of social butterfly I am.” Jensen made a face. “I guess, though, that I’m just not the settling type.”

“No? What no two-point-five, no picket fence, no dog named Skippy and no trips to grandma and grandpa’s?” Jared teased.

“Ah, no. Not so much.” Jensen snagged the bill that the waitress laid down between them. “Jim told me to pick up the tab. D-e-s-s-e-r-t, now or later?” 

Jared grinned at Jensen’s spelling and mouthed the word ‘later.’

“Okay, Noah.” Jensen said addressing the little boy across the table. Noah looked up from the paper placemat that he had been coloring on. “Should we go see if we can find us some chicken eggs.”

“Yeah. And rooster eggs and duck eggs and goose eggs and . . .” Noah climbed to his feet in his excitement, earning him a scowl from his uncle.

“No feet on the furniture, Noah or you’ll get a goose egg alright. What would G.G. say to me then? Or your momma?” Jared scolded him as he took a hand to help the boy jump to the floor. “And we’ll go get those eggs after we order the house some new windows, okay?”

Jensen laughed as the boy pouted, he knew he should feel bad about getting him wound up, but watching Jared take the upper hand so gracefully . . . well, that was a bit of interesting, right there. Who knew?

It wasn’t until they were in the truck heading towards the glass place that Jensen thought to ask a question that had been nagging him.

“So, I got to ask. Who is G.G.?”

A little voice floated matter-of-factly over the seat from where Noah was playing with his new cowboy and pony that Jared had got him at the farm supply store. “That’s grandma.”

“Grandma?” Jensen questioned casting a sideways glance at Jared, who nodded as he navigated the Ford across two lanes.

“Yeah. Well, actually my grandma. You’ve met her as Elinor Padalecki. She owns the Lazy P Diner where Chris works.”

“Jim bought his place from her.” Jensen ventured.

“Well, her and my grandpa, Gerald, Sr. before he passed away. That sale turned out to be the best move all around; he’s a hell of a neighbor. Been there for us all of us Padalecki’s at one time or another.” Jensen watched as a serious expression floated across Jared’s features. It was gone as fast as it came, making Jensen think that he imagined it. “Anyway, Elinor or Ellie as most everyone calls her, also answers to momma, by my dad and my aunt Nancy. Grandma by my brother Jeff and Megan, Memaw is what I most often call her, a holdover from when I was a little boy and bit precocious and territorial. And finally G.G., which is short for great-grandma or as we Padalecki’s like to say, Grandma Greatest.”

Jensen smiled at the fond look that Jared shot him. He was sure it was more at the memory of his family, but if Jensen wanted to believe it was for him . . . well, nobody would ever be the wiser.

 

***

 

The return to Solace was definitely more exciting than the trip out seven and a half hours earlier. Even with the bed of the truck filled to capacity with supplies for both the Padalecki farm and Jim’s, Jared navigated the big Ford deftly through the slowly building traffic. Jensen was in awe of how the city was seemingly emptying out around them as more and more cars made for their homes in the suburbs.

About a half an hour outside of Dallas, Jared was forced to pull over to the shoulder so that he and Jensen could round up the two chicks that had somehow ‘miraculously’ escaped from their taped box in the back seat next to Noah. From then on out it was smooth sailing, the box nestled on the floorboard next to Jensen’s feet.

They were informed that the chicks, which Noah picked out and paid for proudly all by himself from a sandwich baggy full of change, were named Nemo and Dory. When Jared tried to explain that Nemo and Dory were fish names, Noah just crossed his skinny little arms across his chest and stated quite clearly that they were named Nemo and Dory. Jensen smiled at the little boy’s theatrics while Jared rolled his eyes and mumbled below his breath that someone needed a N-A-P.

 

***

 

“So, I’m going to guess that you ride, right?” Jared ventured as he and Jensen unloaded the Beaver purchases into the garage. They had made a quick stop to drop Noah off with his mother before heading over to Jim’s.

“Um, yeah? I’m pretty good with a horse. Motorcycles . . . well, I can pull it off, but I’m pretty out of practice.” Jensen replied flipping the fifty-pound bag of dog food onto the workbench.

“Oh. I meant horses, sorry. I’ve never been on a bike.” Jared clarified settling his own load of feed pellets onto the floor.

“Then yeah, I can ride. In fact, I’ve been meaning to take one of Jim’s old nags out to take a look around the pasture, but once I get into the trees . . . well, you know, time slips away.”

“We got a couple of horses over on our place. Four of ‘em and with Meg working all the time and with the storm and everybody trying to get cleaned up . . .” Jensen smiled down at his chest when he noticed the redness starting to creep up from below Jared’s collar. “Look, what I’m trying to get to is, do you want to take a ride tomorrow sometime? Meg’s off and so she’ll have Noah and Memaw will be at the diner and . . .”

“ . . .Yes . . .” Jensen tried to interject.

. . .the horses are getting pretty antsy. We’ve finished with the insura . . .” Jared stopped as Jensen laid a hand on his forearm.

“I would like to go for a ride tomorrow. I haven’t had a chance to see much of Jim’s property other than the orchard and I’m sure he won’t have a problem with me taking an hour or three off.”

“He told me that you work too hard.”

“He has a big mouth.” Jensen returned, but his smile took the bite out of his statement.

“Well, to be fair, he didn’t name any names, but something tells me that he meant you.” Jared grinned.

“Old busybody.” Jensen groused as they headed back to the truck for another load.

 

***

 

“Well, Mr. Mouser Man, ready to move on?” Jensen looked across the branches of the pecan tree he was in to see the uninterested green eyes of the large black and white cat that had taken to following him up and down the trees of the orchard. Of course, it could be because Jensen would often ‘drop’ pieces of his lunch, which the stray cat would bat a few times before eating, just as he would a mouse.

The sun had been just about to begin its descending arc across the sky when Jensen dropped from the tree he was pruning to see Jared striding towards Jim’s farm through the bright green grass of the orchard. Dressed in nice slacks and a white shirt turned gleaming in the noonday sun that beat down through the leafy canopy of the trees, Jensen sensed his gut tightening beneath his belt.

“Hey.” He called out causing Jared’s head to turn towards him.

“Hey, Jensen. Just the man I wanted to see.” Jared answered, altering his course to cover the short distance between them. “Do have plan on being in the trees all day?”

“Well, that’s what Jim’s not paying me for.” Jensen laughed at the confused look that stole over the strong brow of the other man. 

“He’s not paying you?”

“It’s . . . no, that’s . . . I’m joking, really.” Jensen stumbled of his tongue as he tried to explain away the incredulous look now facing him. “Jim’s good people. Can you imagine him not paying us?”

In all honesty, Jensen thought, they hadn’t really come around to the talk of any wages. When he, Chris, and Steve got to Solace, they were just intent on helping Jim out at first, so any money talk was shelved. Besides, Jim was giving them room and board right now, which was good enough in Jensen’s book.

Jensen looked up to see his feline companion effortlessly walking along the branch above Jared’s head.

“Oh.” Jared looked relieved at Jensen’s query, but his eyes lit up when he followed Jensen’s gaze. “Buzz! Hey buddy, where you been? I thought . . .”

“He’s yours?” Jensen asked watching the cat’s steps become more delicate as the branch began to bow under its weight. “He’s been following me around out here since . . . well, since about the first day, I guess. Seems to like ham sandwiches. I’ve been calling him Mr. Mouser Man.”

Jared laughed as they both watched the cat launch itself at the limb of a neighboring tree and started stalking away from them, claws catching in the bark.

“Yeah, he’s one of ours. Buzzlenose. Good mouser though, so your name is probably more fitting. I thought that we lost him in the storm.”

“Buzzlenose?” Jensen asked, cocking an eyebrow at the odd name.

“Yeah, when he was younger, he got stung on the nose . . .”

“. . . by a bee?” Jensen interrupted.

“Well, a hornet actually, but my grandpa always called him Buzzlenose after that. It gotten shortened to Buzz and it stuck.” Jensen watched as Jared tipped his gaze from the branches above to look straight at him. He sucked in a breath at the smiling eyes in front of him.

“So, Mr. Buzzlenose Mouser Man? Sounds kind of like a thuggish accountant.”

They both laughed as the cat settled down in the crook of the tree. It wrapped its tail around its feet and eyed them with disdain.

“What brings you out to my neck of the woods?” Jensen chuckled as Jared groaned at his not-entirely-unplanned pun. He had thought of it his third day out amongst the trees and had spent the better part of the day wishing someone would come out so he could try it out. Now, twelve days later, the joke had proven itself to have a shorter shelf life than he thought. 

“I can’t believe you just said that. Wow, that’s . . . that was worse than one of Noah’s jokes. Hell, even worse than one of Chad’s.” Jared’s dimples flashed as he laughed at the mock hurt look on Jensen’s face. “Dude, that was terrible.”

“Okay. Okay, you made your point.” Jensen huffed before laughing himself, “but you still didn’t answer my question.”

“What am I doing out here?” Jared asked.

“Yeah. And I know that I’m a guest and all, but seriously, you didn’t have to dress up for me.” He waved a hand at Jared’s nice attire.

“Oh.” Jared looked down at his clothes. “I, yeah, well, I just got done with hopefully the last funeral that I’ll have to go to in quite some time.”

“Damn, sorry, I didn’t . . . um, I didn’t mean any disrespect . . .”

“No. No. I know you didn’t. I just was on my way home and got the itch to play hooky, you know? Get the stench of the morning off of me?” Jensen couldn’t decide if the clothed made Jared more handsome or if it was his blushing politeness. “Anyway, I called Aldis. You’ve met him, right? At the diner? Anyway, I called Aldis and I thought that maybe you would want to join him, Noah, and me for an afternoon at the river; maybe catch a fish or two?”

Jensen looked down the row of trees that he had finished since he gotten to the orchard at dawn. His steady and solitary work had produced another sixteen trees repaired and pruned. He could feel Jared’s gaze on his face as he turned and looked at the string of trees that he still wanted to finish before dark.

“Look, I . . . you really don’t have to go, if you don’t want to, okay? I knew that you would take off for a horseback tour of the back forty, but today I really just want a cold beer, the smell of fish, and maybe a fun afternoon with friends.” Jared explained, an arm held away from his body, hand upturned as if he were begging for Jensen to say yes. “Jim would be okay with it, wouldn’t he? You taking off for the afternoon?”

“Jim . . .” Jensen started to chuckle as he turned back to the farmer. “Jim would probably pay you to make me take the afternoon off.”

“Really?” Jensen’s chuckle turned to a laugh as he took in the scheming expression that settled suddenly onto Jared’s face. Jared wrung his hands as if he were an evil mastermind.

“C’mon, you’ve met the man in question; do you really think that he would do that?”

“Well . . . no,” Jared said slowly, “but then it is you, Jensen. He seems to have a soft spot for you, so he might.” 

Jensen was speechless at how the other man saw his and Jim’s friendship and at the honestly that glowed in those speckled blue-green eyes.

“So will you come fishing with us or do I need to go find Jim?”

Jensen looked back down the row of trees still requiring attention, some in need of major trimming after the storm had brutalized them. He glanced back at Jared, who was rolling the cuffs of his tidy shirt up to his elbows. Well, Jensen thought, there wasn’t an argument after witnessing that.

“I’ll need to get my poles . . .” Jensen started.

“Okay. So I still need to change and Noah should be waking up from his nap.” Jared stuck his tongue out of the corner of his lip and rolled his eyes skyward. It looked to Jensen that Jared was calculating the time difference from California to Sweden, for all the seriousness of his expression.

“I . . .” 

“No, okay, so I’ll change, grab Noah . . . we’ll need to take my truck because I have his booster seat . . . and then swing by and pick you up. Say about half an hour? Forty-five minutes?” Jared wasn’t even waiting for Jensen to confirm before his long stride started to carry him towards the Padalecki farm. “Oh, and don’t worry about beer or food, I got that covered.”

Jensen watched as Jared swung back around, his shirt still white-gold in the brilliant sunlight. Rubbing the sweat from his nose with his thumb and forefinger, Jensen stooped to gather his tools and started for the farm. The trees would still be there when he got back.

 

***

 

The red and white bobber plopped into the flowing greenish-blue water of the river after Jensen lazily cast out his line. He took a brief swig of beer from the icy bottle next to him and looked down the bank at his companions. It had been quite some time since he had taken an afternoon to go drown some worms. Jared returned his smile before stooping to help Noah untangle himself from his Snoopy fishing pole.

“So you’re from Wyoming, huh?” Jensen glanced to the tall man seat to his left. He had met Aldis Hodge at the Lazy P the first day that Jim had taken them into to town. Aldis seemed like an okay guy; Funny and seemingly the only person that could put his Uncle Sterling in his place. He worked at the family garage part time and as a dispatcher for the police department the rest of the time. Jensen bet silently that the man was in dire need of a day off after the past two weeks.

“Yeah, well, kind of. I go where the work is mostly, but Wyoming has become something of a home base, so to speak.” 

“Never been. Been to South Dakota once, though. Had to go after a part for some old car that my uncle was rebuilding. Took an extra day to go over and see Mount Rushmore.” Jensen laughed as Aldis whistled while rubbing at the wiry looking scruff of hair on his chin. “That’s a big ass pile of rocks, is what that is.”

“Never seen it. Been to Devil’s tower in northern Wyoming, though. Looks bigger in the movies, than in person.” He replied.

“Hey, Mister Jensen, look at my fishing pole. My grandpa got it for me.” Noah thrust his pole nearly into Jensen’s face without a thought to the line that was being pulled through the water in front of him.

“Careful, little man,” Aldis warned, reaching over to hold the line coming from the little boy’s pole away from Jensen’s, “gotta keep the lines free. Though, I gotta say that that is a way nicer pole than mine. Do you think that I could ask your grandpa for one?”

Noah’s little face scrunched up as if he was fearful of getting in trouble, but it evened out just as quickly at Aldis’ admiration for his Snoopy rod and Woodstock reel.

“I don’t know . . . I could ask Grandpa for you.” His face brightened as if the idea of Aldis having a matching pole was the best thing ever.

“What are you asking Grandpa for, squirt?” Jared placed a blue and white cooler behind the boy and settled his large frame carefully on the lid. 

“Can Grandpa get Aldis a pole just like mine? So we can go fishing together?”

Jensen’s heart warmed at the boy’s logic. 

“But aren’t you fishing with Aldis right now?” he asked the lad, earning himself a confused look.

“Ye-ah . . . but Al-dis don’t have a Snoopy pole.”

“Doesn’t have a Snoopy pole, but he has his own red pole. See? So you can still fish with him. But if you want to ask Grandpa about getting this big baby his own Snoopy pole, you can when you talk to him on Sunday.” Jared reasoned with the boy as he stood enough to fish a beer from the cooler for himself.

“Hey. How did this get turned around on me?” Aldis groused as both Jared and Jensen laughed. Noah had already lost interest in the conversation and was busy reeling in his line.

“You’ll never catch any fish if you don’t keep your worm in the water.” Jared explained patiently as he took the rod from his nephew. “See your worm fell off again.”

Jensen smiled softly as Jared reached into the tackle box between them and pulled out a wrinkled paper sack. He had memories of his own Uncle Mike, his mom’s brother taking Jeff, Jensen and their cousins fishing when they still lived in Texas. They had spent more hours getting sunburned necks and seeing who could skip rocks the furthest than they did fishing, but those weekend trips were still some of the fondest memories in Jensen’s mind.

Noah’s look of delightful wonderment as he bounced up and down in his dirty sneakers caused Jensen to peer at the boy intently, enough so that Aldis leaned forward to watch around Jensen to see what Jared was doing.

“One for me too, Uncle Jared?” Noah clapped his hands a few times.

“Only after you show me how to put this worm on your hook.” Jared answered him, withdrawing his hand.

“He can thread his own hooks?” Jensen asked. “Wow. I think I was around ten before I was allowed to do that.”

“Nah. Well, yeah, actually he can. Just not a real hook or a real worm.”

“They are real worms!” Jensen smiled at Noah’s huffy comment.

“Yes, they are real worms.” Jared said calmly. He pulled his hand from the bag with a small flourish and held up two stripped gummy worms. “Just not the kind you usually catch fish with.”

Aldis laughed as Jensen sputtered his sip of beer down his chin. Jared just grinned and pulled Noah over to stand between his knees, so that he could look over the little boys shoulder as he squished the candy worm onto the unbent paper clip that was his hook.

“He ever caught anything with that set up?” Jensen queried, still wiping away the moisture from his chin.

“Nope. But we keep trying, don’t we buddy?” Jared said with a small laugh as Noah bobbed his head in the affirmative.

 

***

 

The afternoon sun teased them through the canopy of leaves over the riverbank, rippling spots of gold danced across the meandering watery current, snagging occasionally on their extended lines. The conversation jumped from fishing trips gone-by, the upcoming spring training for the Rangers, and who made the best chili in town. Aldis claiming victory for himself in the chili debate.

“Though to be fair, Aldis, you got your recipe from Ms. Kate. So you can’t take all the credit.” Jared tried to reason, but the other man merely shook his head at the idea.

“Ms. Kate may have shown me how to make it, but she never put enough fire into it. See here, Jensen. You gotta have heat in chili otherwise it’s just beans and marinara, right. So I put in five kinds of hot peppers, just to get it kickin’ a little. You see what I’m saying? Give it a li’l bump, a li’l grind.”

Jensen laughed as Aldis mimed a weird little dance from his seat on the bank; a dance that was accompanied by the bow-chicka-wow-wow tune that everyone used in reference to porn.

“Yeah, Aldis, you beat everybody in the great chili debate, but you can’t taste anything for a week after.” Jared groused, as he reached around Jensen to shove playfully at his friend. 

Jensen fought the desire to lean back.

“Knock it off you brute,” Aldis cried as he scrambled away, “you’re just jealous.”

And they were off again the argument carrying more mirth than heat. Jensen let the atmosphere soak into his mind and body. It was like being with Chris and Steve, only not.

By the time they headed back to the farms, Jensen had learned so much about the town of Solace and its inhabitants, that he felt that he could walk up to nearly anyone on the street and be able to call them by name and carry on a conversation. He knew how Kurt Fuller, whose father had been lost in the storm once was the head of the Chamber of Commerce until he skipped town with some of the Christmas funds. And there was Rich Chamberlain, the most famous resident, who made it all the way to being a Texas state senator.

As Jared dropped him off at the farm, Jensen realized that he was more relaxed than he had been since he was a boy. 

It felt good.


	5. Chapter 5

After a lengthy gallop, Jared reined his roan back to a trot and then a walk; Jensen followed his lead on the paint he was riding. Looking over his shoulder, he couldn’t see anything of the farms. No buildings, no other animals, not even the trees, turning he smiled softly into the distance; there was nothing like wide open mostly flat land to put oneself into perspective.

“What’s that look for?”

“Hmm?” 

“You look like you are absolutely at peace with the state of the world.” Jared said as he pulled up a little on the reins to draw along side of Jensen.

“Maybe. Maybe.” Jensen replied noncommittally. “Actually, just think how big the world looks when a man finds himself in such a wide open space. Makes his troubles seem a bit smaller really.”

“Yeah? I get that.” Jared nodded. “Every time I get bogged down, I like head out here and try to just think without laying everything bare for everybody at home, you know?”

“This place is ideal for that, that’s for sure.” Jensen nodded. “So not to change the subject, but do we have a destination?”

“Oh. Yeah, sorry. There’s a stream that cuts through the back of our property, well, Jim’s, too, but I thought that we could let the horses drink.” Jared answered pointing off to their left. “There’s some shade there and I thought that we could break out whatever food grandma handed me on the way out the door.”

“Why Jared Padalecki, did you bring me on a picnic?” Jensen pitched his voice into a falsetto. Inside he was kicking himself for flirting so blatantly, but something about the solidly built man riding next to him caused his discretion to be soft as the sand dirt below the horse’s hooves.

When Jared didn’t answer right away, Jensen looked over about to apologize, but he caught himself speechless in the intensity of the hazel eyes staring back at him.

“Would that be so bad?” Jared asked quietly.

“Um, well . . . no? I think . . . well, I . . . “Jensen stammered and then sighed. He pointed to his chest before finally finishing his statement “crappy conversationalist, remember?”

“Ha! Got you!” Jared laughed and nudged his horse ahead before breaking into a trot, leaving Jensen to follow his lead. Jensen would have totally bought that Jared was kidding, if he hadn’t been staring into Jared’s eyes. He noticed that the laughter never reached them.

 

***

 

“So did you grow up in Solace?” Jensen asked as he leaned back against the dogwood tree. The stream gurgled a few feet away as the horses gnawed at the scrub grass along the other bank. He felt rather than saw Jared lean back against the scaly bark next to him. His shoulder warmed from the close contact.

“I moved up here at the end of my junior year of high school. I was born and raised in San Antonio. My folks still live there.”

“Remember the Alamo.” Jensen teased, leaning to the side to nudge Jared before straightening back to his own place.

“You would not believe how many field trips I spent wandering through that place.” Jared sighed. Jensen watched as Jared scratched briefly at his stomach, a quick shimmer of toned tanned skin showed through the pearl snaps of his shirt.

“I’ll bet.”

“Ever been down there in your travels?”

“Nope.” Replied Jensen. “You go back often?”

“Not in the past year or so, what with Megan and Noah up here and our older brother Jeff and his wife in Austin, but it is a pretty town. Especially the Riverwalk.”

Jensen hummed and they both watched the horse pick lazily over the scrub grass beyond the narrow stream.

“How ‘bout you? Where did you grow up?” Jared asked, pulling a broad-leafed weed from the dirt next to him.

“Here and there . . . well, more there really. I was born in Texas. Richardson. But we moved to Chicago when I was a kid.” Jensen’s hope that Jared wouldn’t want to continue the conversation was for naught.

“Oh, city boy, huh? Got any good stories? Hot chicks? Flash cars? Mad all-weekend-long keg parties?” Jared elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

“No.”

“No?!?”

“No, I mean, I didn’t really date, I didn’t really party. So, no. No good stories, sadly.” Jensen answered tersely. “I studied a lot.”

“So what you got some fancy degree that you’re hiding in that truck of yours?”

“Nope, no degree. Dropped out and became a cowboy.” His mind raced trying to come up with a change of topic. “So you what, stayed in Solace all this time?”

When Jared didn’t answer immediately, Jensen looked over to see him systematically using his thumbnail to cut perfectly formed squares out of the leaf face. It was only when he noticed Jared’s Adam’s apple bob repeatedly that he remembered what Jim had told him about the accident and him dropping out of school. Hell, he thought, they had both been dealt a tough hand.

“Look . . . I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with that. I . . . you got to be stronger than me, taking on the weight of a fully functional farm right out of school. Jim, well, Jim told me about how poorly your grandpa had been doin’ towards the end. Must have been rough, you know. Hell, I tip my hat . . .” Jensen rambled on until Jared interrupted him.

“I did . . . leave that is, but . . . but Solace is just . . . well, aptly named for one thing and . . . well, I guess home.” Jensen had to strain to hear Jared’s voice over the babbling of the water. He was as reserved as he had been that first day, even more so, if that was at all possible.

“You and your grandpa must have been close.” Jensen commented softly, opening up an avenue so that Jared wouldn’t have to talk about something that obviously still pained him.

“Yeah, we were. He was my idol growing up and when I didn’t want to be Troy Aikman, I wanted to be a farmer, just like my gramps. But . . .” Jared sighed and then shifted so that he was sitting cross-legged next to him, his knee brushing against the calf of Jensen’s outstretched legs. “I’ve come home to Solace twice now. I wasn’t lying earlier, when I said that I would just ride out into the pasture to get away from it all. I swear I could tell you where every snake hole is, where every rock and cactus is placed on our property, where every tumbleweed in the county comes from . . .”

“Jared, you . . .”

“No, Jensen. Fair is fair. I made you talk in the truck the other day and besides, if you stay here another week longer, you’re going to find out anyway. Aren’t any secrets in a town like Solace.” Jensen could make out an undercurrent of emotion in the other man’s voice, but he just nodded and bit at his lower lip.

“I did come to live with Memaw and Gramps when I was in high school, just like I said, but it wasn’t because I had lofty ambitions to be a farmer or even a cowboy. I always thought that I wanted to be an architect.” Jared gave himself a self-depreciating laugh. “Can’t draw to save my life. Anyway, I had gone out for spring football, wanted to make my dad proud, be a good little son.”

“I . . .” Jensen wanted to reassure him that he understood, but Jared cut him off. 

“Now don’t think that my dad was one of those pushy, sports-nut dad’s living his dreams through his son, because he wasn’t. I just wanted to please him, well, and my momma as well, but she really didn’t like my brother or I playing contact sports.” Jared stopped and drew a deep breath. “One afternoon after practice, I was helping the student equipment manager to round up the rest of the stuff that needed locked away and we got to horsing around. Alex and I had been friends since . . . I don’t know . . . second or third grade at least, so we had gotten most of everything, all that was left was a few of the loose balls along the edge of the field. So I’m picking them up and throwing them and he’s trying to catch them in the ball bag.”

Jensen glanced over, but Jared just kept his eyes trained on the horizon. He wondered if the other man thought that if he didn’t make eye contact the horror would never happen. And Jensen knew this was going to be a horror story, because he had lived through his own and understood what relieving it could do to a person’s soul.

“So I throw a ball too hard and it rolls under the bleachers and Alex tells me to go get it since I threw it and anyway long story short, we both end up under the bleachers trying to get the ball unwedged from between two supports. It was shady and cool down there, so we stayed for a while. I don’t know why but we started talking about the spring formal, which led to talk of who we wanted to make out with and then BAM!”

Jensen jumped as Jared clapped his hands loudly next to him, the bark of the dogwood biting into his back through his tee shirt. He sat up and mirrored Jared’s position.

“I don’t know how long we were kissing and groping at each other, but it was long enough for a bunch of the other guys to come out and threaten to string us up. We both took off running for home, but not before a couple of good shots were landed. By the time my momma found me hiding behind the garage, my black eye had already started to darken and the blood had dried on my shirt. She took me in and cleaned me up. That night my parents’ sat me down and I told them that I thought that I liked boys more than girls and that some of the boys at practice found that out. I left out the part that the boys had caught me kissing Alex or that we had our hands in places that they never should have been.”

Jared rubbed at his eyes and swung his glance briefly to see if Jensen was still there. What he saw must have surprised him as he gave a small smile and accepted the water bottle that Jensen handed him.

“Thanks.” He took a couple of long swallows and screwed the lid back on.

“You’re welcome. So it was your parent’s decision to send you to Solace?” Jensen ventured, feeling dirty at his curiosity for the rest of the story.

“I’m not sure, but I think it was more of a family decision. That was on a Thursday and my momma wouldn’t let me go to school on Friday. By the time Sunday night had rolled around the house had been egged, the lawn and trees covered in trash and toilet paper and my dad’s car had the word ‘fag’ spray painted on the trunk. I didn’t go to school on Monday or Tuesday, either and by Wednesday, I was unpacking here in Solace.”

“Man, that’s rough.”

“No, that’s Texas. Well, not all of Texas and it is getting better, but, yeah, I was pretty messed up there for a while.” Jared replied wryly. “It doesn’t matter much anymore. I love it here and I think I got a pretty good education, but yeah, for a sixteen year-old, moving to the boonies kinda sucked.”

“So did you ever talk to Alex again?” Jensen asked quietly.

Jared shook his head and took another quick swipe at his eyes. The stillness in the man next to him started to gnaw at his gut.

“No. I . . . his parents weren’t as understanding and he was back in school the next day and the next and the next. I heard that his dad was pretty pissed because their place got the same treatment as ours and he beat him pretty good.”

“Some people don’t deserve to be fathers!” Jensen stated his voice laced with venom.

“Yeah. So my family came out here for the Fourth of July and my dad takes me out to barn and sets me down on a bale of hay. Turns out the Alex kept taking the abuse that I left him there to deal with until he couldn’t deal with it anymore. He shot himself, but not before he shot his old man.” Jared’s tone had flattened to a blank whisper. “I had never seen my daddy cry until that day. I remember getting pretty mad when I thought that he was crying for Mr. Martin, but when he told me that he was so scared that I would do something similar . . . well, not shoot him, but rather do something to myself.”

Jensen reached over and laid his hand softly on Jared’s knee. He knew it wasn’t as comforting as an arm around the shoulders, but it was the simplest way for him to show support without speaking. He couldn’t speak right then, at least not without chocking on the stone growing in his throat.

Jared looked up then, the first time that he had made solid eye contact since his tale began.  
“You want to know the worst part?” Jensen was pretty sure that at this point he didn’t, but with no voice he was helpless to stop Jared from telling him. “The absolute worst part in my mind is that Alex was a terrible shot. He lived for nearly a month before his body started shutting down. And Mr. Martin . . . hell, that bastard lived. Still has a bullet lodged in him somewhere, but he lived. Sucks, huh?”

Jensen nodded and looked out at the horses. He was expecting Jared to tell him about his friend that died in the accident, but this was worse than he expected, so, so, much worse.

“So now that I’ve completely depressed you, do you want to help me finish off Memaw’s fabulous coffee cake and then hit the trail again?” Jared tried for levity, but his voice still seemed raw and flat to Jensen.

“You didn’t completely depress me. The fact that you’re here and happy and healthy and you have a family that loves and cares about you enough to ensure that you would be safe; protected . . . well, you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.” Jensen stated sincerely, giving Jared’s knee a benevolent squeeze. “Now, about that coffee cake.”

Jared’s dimples shown shallowly beneath his rosy blush.

 

***

 

“Hey, Jared!” Jensen looked up at the small blue Honda Civic that was slowly creeping to a stop on the road that they were riding alongside of. “And hellooo, stranger.”

“Hi ‘Lona and no dice.” Jared laughed reining his roan to a stop. Jensen allowed his horse to draw up on the other side, thus putting Jared between him and the blonde in the car.

“Jensen, meet Alona Tal, her momma’s Sam, the woman that helps run the Lazy P with my grandma. Alona, and before you even think it. No. This is Jensen Ackles, he and his friends came down to help out Jim.”

“Why does everyone keep telling me ‘no’. Shit, my momma told me the same thing a couple of days ago about that new hottie at the diner.” She pouted.

“That new ‘hottie’ is one of Jensen’s friends and he’s a huge help right now, so you best not get any ideas.” Jared warned good-naturedly. “What are you out doing, ripping through the countryside?”

“Well, the planning committee for the Old-Settlers Day has reset the date and I was out to the Cohan’s talking to Lauren about it.” Jensen watched as she tipped the rearview mirror down to fluff her bangs.

“The Old Settler’s Day is Solace’s version of an anniversary or the settling of Solace. Usually there’s a big to-do, parade, barbeque, money pit and mutton bustin’ for the kids, movies, a dance, chili cook-off, pecan shelling, well . . . a whole bunch of pecan events, really.” Jared ticked off the events on his fingers as Jensen watched the list grew longer and longer. “Dueling banjos, dueling fiddles, hell, dueling every kind of instrument. It’s a lot of fun. When’s it gonna be, ‘Lona?”

“Hmm? Oh, the Friday and Saturday before Easter. Totally gives us all a chance to get some real sinnin’ before sunrise services.” Jensen flushed as she shot him a wanton look. “So, you and your friends going to be here for Easter, Jensen?”

“I don’t know.” He glanced back at here, catching Jared’s hopeful expression out of the corner of his eye. He heard Jared murmur something along the lines as ‘hope so’ before he raised his voice loud enough to bid Alona a good-bye and nudge his horse into movement.

They rode in silence for several minutes before Jared spoke again.

“Alona, well, Alona is a good kid . . .most of the time. Sam’s raised her alone for as long as I’ve known them and it hasn’t been easy these past few years. ‘Lona took off for Fort Worth about a year and half ago and got tangled up with a bad crowd. She ended up in the hospital after a few too many nights of partying and Sam got the call. She was back in Solace faster than you could say ‘boo’, let me tell you.”

“She seems nice enough,” Jensen ventured, at a loss for how he would explain the forward acting girl. “Doesn’t seem much like Sam.”

“Oh, she’s more like Sam than you can imagine, she just fights it, Jared replied, nudging his mount towards home. “You know, kinda makes me want to know what Sam was like at ‘Lona’s age. Bet she was a wild one.”

Jensen laughed as Jared turned and waggled his eyebrows at the thought, but he couldn’t even begin to speculate on a young Sam; she seemed so gruff and logical the few times he had met her so far.

 

***

 

It was nearing evening when they returned to the Padalecki farm and finished brushing down the horses. Jensen was starting to feel the stiffness of until recently unused muscles in the inside of his thighs. He bent down to touch his fingertips to his boots and as he stood upright he caught Jared checking him out. His temporary neighbor reddened and turned away. Jensen paused for a moment and decided to come clean.

“Jared, um, I got to be honest with you.” He started as the now familiar grin started to slide off Jared face. “I . . . I wasn’t surprised by the story of your past today. Well, by the story, yes I was. Hell, yes. But by the reason for it, by your, um . . .”

“Being gay?” Jared spoke flatly.

“No! I mean, no, you being gay doesn’t bother me, in fact it kinda makes me . . . um, happy?” Jensen ventured. “No, what I meant was, well . . . I am so saying this badly.”

“I’m not mad, Jensen. I’m not going to get mad. I promise.” Jensen wanted to hug Jared right then and there for his sincerity, for his understanding, for his sex appeal . . . wait . . . Jensen drew in a breath and quickly tried to put his thoughts in order.

“I’m sorry that that happened to you. I’m sorry that that happened to your friend. I’m not sorry that you’re gay, quite the opposite really.” Jensen felt his cheeks start to warm as Jared’s smile returned. “What I’m trying to say, horribly I might add, is that that was not the story that I expected to hear.”  
Jared cocked his head for a few seconds before a look of understanding and disappointment filled his expression. “Who?”

“Jim. That first night at the hospital. I . . . he was amazed that you went with us – me to get Chad and I . . . I don’t know. I just wanted you to know that I already knew.” Jensen started to breathe properly again. He hadn’t noticed that he had been practically holding his breath for the last few moments. “Don’t, um, please don’t be angry with him. Jim, well, Jim knows some of my skeletons and has witnessed me parading them out from time to time when I’ve had too much to drink. I guess I just wanted to clear the air, okay?”

Jared was quiet for a few more minutes as he finished tidying up around the barn and started for the door. Jensen followed silently behind him as his stomach started to do flips behind his belt. Finally, he felt as if he was making a new friend, someone that might understand him in a way that Steve and Chris never would and then he goes and messes it up with bringing up the guys worst nightma . . .

“Jensen?” Jensen stopped his internal self-torment and looked up to find that Jared was no longer there. He turned slowly and found that the other man had stopped several feet back and was now looking at him with a serious expression on his face.

“Yeah, Jared?”

“I’m not mad, at you or at Jim. I just . . . I would rather not talk about it, if that’s okay?”

“Oh, yeah. No, I understand . . . I just wanted you to know. And if you ever do . . . want to talk about it . . . I would listen, okay? No judgment, no blaming, no nothing, okay? I’ve been there. Well, not there, but I’ve had some crap go down and it took me a long time . . .” Jensen trailed off as Jared continued to stand there and stare at him. He heard a bark from somewhere and a sleek brown dog came bounding around him to dance at Jared’s feet. “I . . . I’m going to take off, okay? Thanks for the ride and for the picnic . . . I had fun.”

Jensen turned and started to walk towards the trees the separated the two farms. He normally wasn’t a crier, in fact it had been years, but for some reason, Jared’s rejection caused his eyes to start burning in the cool evening air. Today was the first time that he had really let his guard down with someone who was nearly a total stranger and was burned in the process. He shouldn’t be surprised, in fact, he should have expected it, but he felt somewhat blindsided nonetheless. 

The disappointment of the past ten minutes or so had really tempered the good feeling that the rest of the day had held, well, short of Jared’s sad story. He was past the first tree when he heard Jared call after him.  
“Jensen!” Jensen stopped, but didn’t turn all the way around until he heard the crackling of footsteps in the leaves not blown away in the storm. “Jensen, wait.”

The dog ran ahead of its master and started to wind a circle around the stationary cowboy.

“Jensen.” Jared said as he drew to a stop a few feet away, his breath thinned in the haste. “I . . . you don’t have to leave.”

“Actually, I’ve got to get up in the morning and make up for taking today off, so yeah, it’s probably best that I get home.” Jensen replied still unable to meet Jared’s hazel eyes.

“Let me drive you at least.” 

“Nah, the exercise will do me good. You know, stretch out a bit before bed.” Jensen laughed flatly. “I’m pretty sure I used some muscles today that I forgot I had. But thanks for offering.”

“You sure? Come on, I don’t mind.” Jared implored.

“Thanks, but it’s okay. It’ll only take a few minutes.” Jensen turned to start walking.

“Look, I’ll see you around, right?” Jared asked walking a few paces with him. “Maybe you could come into the diner for breakfast with Jim? I’m sure the other guys would like to meet you.”

“Maybe. Probably not tomorrow, but soon.”

“Yeah? Okay. So, I’ll let you go, but see you soon and breakfast will be on me, okay?” 

“A picnic and breakfast, Jared? I’m pretty sure it’s my turn to pay.” Jensen felt his nerves settle and ventured a glance at Jared, he almost laughed at the other man’s earnest expression of peeking out beneath his long bangs and his bottom lip completely sucked in between his teeth. 

“But you got lunch in Dallas.” Jared bitched good-naturedly.

“Nope, that was Jim.”

“Fine, we’ll have fight for it, but remember that I know the owner.”

“Yeah? Well, I know the cook.” Jensen countered. “Anyway, we’ll fight over it then, I think I need to get home and soak these old bones in a hot shower. See you around, okay.”

He clapped Jared on the shoulder and lengthened his stride. He had a feeling that if he didn’t Jared would walk him all the way home and then he would feel bad and have to walk Jared home. Christ he felt like a pimple-faced fourteen-year-old right now. He grinned at the thought.

“Gooooodnightttttt, Jennnnnsennnnnn!”

Jensen laughed as the call was accompanied by a small series of yips and finally a howl. It had been a good day. A few snags, but overall, today had been the best day he had had in years. As twilight crept in around him, Jensen felt that his grin could have lit his path all the way home.

 

***

 

Jared stared at the brilliant square of light in front of him as he sat on the darkened step of the porch. He could hear the gentle tune that his grandma was humming behind him as she folded laundry on the sofa; her arm occasionally split the light at his feet, but it always came back together again as if she hadn’t shifted in front of the source.

He could hear Noah’s protesting voice float down the stairs. He was fighting going to bed like he did most every night, but his sister wasn’t the pushover that he was and her soft murmurs could barely be heard, but soon enough Noah’s voice weakened in both tone and volume.

Today had been wonderful, painful at times, such as when he shared Alex’s story, but still, it was fun to ride the pastures and get to know Jensen better.

Jared couldn’t believe that Jim had never told him that Jensen was gay. Sure, there never was a time when the topic could have came up naturally and if Jim had brought it up out of the blue, Jared would have thought the other man to be playing matchmaker. But it seemed odd that he didn’t know. Hell, even Jensen knew about him.

Jared scuffed at the earth at the base of the step with his boot heel, carving a curved divot deeper and deeper into the dirt. He was kind of at a loss for how he was feeling now. When Jensen was the unavailable straight guy here to help out, it seemed okay to find him attractive because he knew nothing could happen, but now . . . Jared sighed into the night air. Now he felt like he was betraying Drew’s memory by how fast it took him to want to slam Jensen up against a wall and kiss him until they both passed out from lack of oxygen.

“Jared?”

Jared looked over his shoulder as his grandma called to him from inside. “Yeah?” He replied.

“Just checking that you were still there. Did you want some ice cream?” She answered.

“I’m not going anywhere.” And wasn’t that the truth, he frowned. Maybe he wasn’t going anyplace, but Jensen surely was. Another reason it was a bad idea to hook up with the nomadic cowboy. “Ice cream sounds good, but I can get it.”

Jared sighed again and unfolded his frame from the step. He needed to go in and get cleaned up anyway rather than setting here stewing. Stretching his arms up high over his head, Jared let his fingertips brush the top of the porch ceiling. It had been a few years since he felt this uncomfortable in his own skin and he didn’t like it. Not one bit, but right now he couldn’t really think of a way to remedy the situation.

Turning, Jared entered the house that had been his shelter, his safe haven so many times before and welcomed the idea of sanctuary from his thoughts.

“Mint chocolate, Rocky Road or butter pecan. Memaw?” He would think about all of this tomorrow, he thought as he crossed the living room towards the kitchen.

“Whatever, dear, you always pick right. You decide and I’ll enjoy it.”

Shaking his head, he sometimes got the feeling that she could read minds, but he couldn’t find the a way to prove it.


	6. Chapter 6

**26th of March, 2005**

The sun was beginning to slant through the small windows of the truck topper, when Jensen opened his eyes. Pointing his toes in his sleeping bag until they brushed the tailgate, he scrubbed lightly at his chest, a smile growing on his face as he thought back to the night before. He had had fun at Solace’s movie night and it wasn’t just because of the movies. 

 

Last night the town had started the spring celebration by showing videos against the side of a building; kid’s movies and cartoons on the bank and more adult ones across the street on the freshly painted general store. The street had been blocked off, not that anyone was going to be driving down it anyway, what with the plywood and sawhorse tables set up everywhere, each laden with homemade ice cream freezers and once full pie plates.

 

It had worked out nicely with Jared and Jensen keeping an eye on Noah, while Megan was still at work and Ellie manned the abundant spread of delicious pies, decadent cakes, and other glorious goodies. After Megan arrived, he and Jared headed across the street to find their places amongst their friends. He had noticed Chris leaving for the bathroom a short time later and not returning until much later. He reminded himself to ask about the cartoons later.

Jensen hoped that the barbeque and dance was just as fun tonight; it was a relief to be amongst people that didn’t put on airs and had no expectations from you except to eat and to share a good time. 

Solace it had turned out was a nice little town. Everybody that Jensen had come across was nice and accommodating, not that he had met a lot of people, yet. Sure there were a few that he was uncomfortable around, like Alona Tal, who kept eyeing him like he was her one-way ticket out of town. And Katie, the nurse, who always seemed to stare at Jensen in a calculating way, making his skin crawl until he could get away. 

On a whole, Solace seemed to be the one town in the past six years that he didn’t have to warm up to. Jensen attributed that to his friendship with Jim, whom everyone seemed to like or at least respect and his deepening friendship with the Padalecki’s especially Jared, who everybody loved.

Laying there in his warm cocoon with the sunlight and the whispering leaves overhead, Jensen felt at peace. It was if all was right in the world for once.

 

***

 

“Oooh, lookin’ good, Ackles.” Jensen tried to duck away from Chris’s outstretched hand, but he was too late and set about re-spiking his hair that had gotten flattened.

“Knock it off, asshole.” He glanced in the mirror and was met with the sight of not only the grinning baboon behind him, but a smiling Steve lounging in the doorway. “And no lip out of you either.”

“Wasn’t sayin’ a word, Jen. But now that you mention it, you clean up real nice.” Jensen was never one to worry about his looks, at least not for the past several years and well, getting compliments from these two . . . “I’m pretty sure that Jared will approve.”

“Fuck you kindly, Carlson.” He backed away from the sink in the small bathroom and Chris ducked in front of him.

“’Bout time, Jen. Some of us actually have people to impress. And by people, I mean girls.” Chris set about fluffing his own wild mess of hair, stopping briefly to rub a finger over his five o’clock shadow. “Do you think . . .”

“And by girls, you mean, Meg Padalecki.” Jensen replied as he flicked a hand through Kane’s mane and dove towards the doorway. Stumbling into Steve they both slammed against the wall opposite, laughing openly at Chris’s primping.

The only thing louder than Christian slamming the door was Jim’s threatening bellow from down the hall. 

“Boys! Leave the pieces, you idjits!”

Steve and Jensen wandered into the living room to find Jim, Rob, Chad, and Beth mostly ready to go. Chad had gotten released from the hospital a few days ago and ever since, Beth had become nearly omni-present at the farm. Right now, she was behind him in his wheelchair, pulling a black bristled brush through his unbelievably long mullet. Chad sat mostly still, but a hand would curl back and caress her knee, receiving a swat for his efforts.

Jim and Rob, sat on the sofa, a pre-season Rangers game playing silently on the television.

“Well, well, well, lookie at you two.” Jim grin shone brightly from beneath his grey beard. “No offense, Beth, but I think that these two pretty boys are trying to show you up.”

Jensen merely scowled as he leaned against the back of the recliner, but Steve replied “Wait until you get load of Kane” as he reached for his guitar case.

“Yeah?”Beth giggled.

“Oh, yeah. You know this is Texas, right? Home to most of the beauty queens in the US? Well, let’s just say that Chris is gonna fit right in.” 

Everybody smiled at Steve’s joking, but it filled with laughter as Chris stepped out of the hallway with a flourish.

“Ta-da! Let’s get this show on the roa . . . what?” His brow furrowed, which led to a scowl at the laughter that greeted him.

Soon a caravan of vehicles left the Beaver farm, making their way the short distance into Solace for an afternoon of fun and a much-needed night of music, dancing, and good down-home barbeque. 

 

***

 

Jensen saw Jared struggling with an unbelievably awkward load as he walked closer to the picnic tables where the barbeque was going to held later. He hurried to catch up. 

“Need a hand?” Jared glanced up from the load of food he was balancing when he spoke.

“Nah, I got it.” The mammoth tray of deviled eggs started to slide, but luckily, Jensen caught it. “On the other hand.” They both laughed.

 

“Say . . . um, I wanted to say thanks. I, well, I had a fun. Last night, that is. I can’t believe I had never seen McClintock before.” Jensen cursed silently at his less than smooth tongue.

 

“Yeah? It was one of my grandpa’s favorites. Well, any John Wayne movie actually, but especially _McClintock_. Have you ever seen _Donovan’s Reef_? It’s not a western, John Wayne and Lee Marvin in Hawaii or someplace tropical at least, fightin’ and drinkin’. It’s hysterical.” Jared let his load drop heavily onto one of the tables next to the grills.

 

“No. I haven’t seen a lot of old movies.” Jensen replied, he looked over to where a group of guys were preparing to light the grills. He judged that they would have flaming success, based on the amount of starter fluid that they were applying. “Haven’t really seen many newer ones for that matter.”

 

“Well, we’ll have to . . . Sterling Brown! You best get your hands out of that cooler or face the wrath of one Elinor Padalecki. She’ll be here any second now and I know that you know that she knows how she packed each dish in there.” Jensen turned to see the mechanic yank his hand from the cooler that they had just set down. With a muttered damn, he ambled away.

 

“Wow.” Jensen breathed, “How is it that one tiny woman can have a man that big scared?”

“Don’t be fooled, Jensen. Memaw might be dainty and one of the most generous ladies you’ve ever met, but cross her . . . well, I’ve only seen her get pushed too far once, maybe twice, but the results are legendary.” Jared turned to head back to the truck. “Come on, the sooner we get everything set up, the sooner we can eat.”

 

Jensen laughed as Jared purposefully stumbled as he mimed wasting away from starvation, but he turned to follow anyway. He tried to lie to himself that he was just as hungry as the next man, but that just wasn’t the truth. He was still getting used to everybody around Solace eating more than the one meal a day that he was used to, but if he got to spend some more time with dark-haired man in front of him . . . well, he would fake the hunger pains, thank you very much.

 

~***~~~**~~* Jared *~~**~~~***~

 

Twisting his neck, Jared lifted the collar of his western cut shirt to his nose and took in the heady smell of excellent pure Texas barbeque. Even though he had been nibbling through the night and had two entire plates with the full trimmings, his stomach still clenched in want. 

The music from the makeshift stage switched to a traditional reel and from his current spot on the swings, which was separated from the de-netted tennis court/ dance floor by picnic tables, he could see most of his parents’ generation joining the swirling mass as they wove and spun their way around the space. The excitement that had been on the rise the past few days was now erupting into cries of joy and laughter.

He watched as Sam whipped her head back as she went from Jim’s arm to that of the Sheriff Hutton’s. From this distance, he couldn’t see her face, but he knew that if he could, her eyes would be flashing as her smile brightened the night. The sound of her whiskey-voiced laughter reached his ears. Good for her, he thought. If anybody needed a fun night on the town, it was Sam Ferris.

“This is exactly what the town needed.” 

Jared swiveled on the swing and had to clasp the cold metal links of the chains to keep himself upright and not flat on his back in the rutted dirt below.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, Jared.” 

“Reverend. I . . . I didn’t see you there.” Jared replied, willing his heart to crawl down out of his throat.

“I gathered as much from your reaction. I . . . well, I needed to . . . see a man about a horse.” Reverend Sheppard grinned as he tucked a hand into the pocket of his dark grey slacks. “You know . . .”

“Yep.” Jared smiled down at his thighs, not wanting the pastor to think that he found it funny that the man couldn’t just say that he need to relieve himself. Heck, it had taken him years not to laugh at the idea of a man of God with the surname Sheppard. It was almost too ironic.

“So, Jared? What brings you so far out in the dark, when all the action seems to be up there?” The man leaned against one of the tilted poles that supported the swings. “Surely there’s somebody up there willing to dance with you.”

Jared looked up again; he could see the kind and curious face of the holy man out of the corner of his eye. The bright lights from the festivities caused his eyes to twinkle. The music had changed to a slower two-step. His grandmother glided by, led by Jim, both smiling in fondness. He could see his sister lighting up the space with a flashing smile, as she seemed to be protecting her feet from a red-faced, awkward Rob Benedict. Even Noah was getting in on the action as his tiny boots were firmly planted on the much larger, much dirtier ones of Christian Kane. It warmed Jared to see his family, healthy and happy, celebrating with the rest of the township. They had been lucky. They had _all_ been so very lucky.

“Jared?”

“Sorry, Reverend. Mmm . . . I’m not what you would call graceful. Two left feet.” Jared deflected.

“Well, what you would call graceful and what I would call graceful might not mean the same thing.” Reverend Sheppard replied lightly. 

Jared cocked an eyebrow as he peered questioningly at the reverend.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that.” Sheppard chuckled, holding up his hands, feigning protection. “I’m guessing that you think that because you may not be Fred Astaire, you don’t want to inflict those size . . . what, 12’s on anyone? Yeah?”

Jared nodded as the music picked up again. “Actually, thirteen’s.” he mumbled to himself.

“But grace is more than coordination and skill, Jared. It is found within. It is kindness and in honor and the giving of one’s self without thought of repayment. All characteristics I know you to possess. So, before you deem yourself too ungraceful to dance, you should think about the fact that out there, somewhere, someone thinks that you are graceful enough for them.”

“I . . . thanks, Reverend Sheppard.” Jared said feeling more settled in the past four minutes than he had since the storm.

“Say, we’re not in church, and we’re both adults. How about you call me Mark?” Jared could hear the other man’s slight accent become more pronounced as he relaxed into the swing to the left of his own.

“Okay . . . Mark. Thanks. It’s been, well, it’s been a rough couple of weeks.” Jared said.

“That it has, that it has.” 

They both sat there and watched as some dancers slipped off to the tables to rest and those that had been resting took their place. He picked his grandma out of the crowd as she stood talking to Jim and the sheriff. Jensen walked up and held out a red plastic glass to her, which she accepted readily. Jared smiled as she reached out and patted Jensen’s cheek, causing him to flush and bow his head. Jim laughed and chucked him on the shoulder.

Near the front of the crowd, Megan had Noah in her arms, his head tipped against her neck as she swayed in time to the music. Kane had joined his buddy Steve on stage with the regular players and was now serenading everyone with a bluesy version of the Hank William’s classic ‘Cold, Cold Heart.’ 

“She looks happy.” Jared said softly, eyeing his sister. “Don’t you think, re . . . Mark?”

“She does.” He agreed. “And why shouldn’t she be? She’s got a great family, a happy and healthy little boy, a man that seems to think she hung the stars, a job that sh – “

“What? She doesn’t have a man.” Jared cut him off. “Who? What man?” He could feel the contentment in his heart turning to confusion.

“Kane. Jim Beaver’s friend.” Mark stated, turning his eyes on Jared in the dim light. “He seems to have clearly taken a shine to her and judging by that smile, she seems to like basking in it. Not that I’m casting any aspersions on either of them, merely observing.”

“Kane? Christian Kane?” Jared zeroed his stare on the stocky man singing on the stage. He liked him well enough, and he had been a godsend for the diner, what with Sam’s arm still in a cast; but Christian and Meggie? No. No way. “He’s not her type. Not her type at all and he’s going to leave soon. So . . .“

“Do you know that, Jared? That he’s leaving? Sometime’s all it takes is one good person to make a man take stock of his life and settle down. I had coffee with Jim and Sterling the other day and he said that Christian, or Chris as he calls him, that Chris was definitely not the same boy he knew in Wyoming. That he really seemed to be settling into the man he is supposed to be.” Mark turned his face back towards the stage and tipped it as if he was pondering on how to word what he was thinking. “Now, I didn’t know him before, but I can say that he comes across as a polite, still a bit mischievous and hard-working man. Ellie thinks so as well, she told me that she’s grown quite fond of him and his sense of humor.”

“Kane and Meg? I didn’t know. Why didn’t I know? I know that I’ve been so preoccupied trying to get everything rebuilt and put back together and I haven’t been there for them. Not for Meg. Not for Noah.” Jared lowered his chin as the weight of his decisions filled his mind. “I haven’t taken out the meals since that day. Not since the tornado.”

He started to go through the past few weeks in his mind. When did he last take the time to actually spend time with his family, other than working or going to church, he couldn’t really pinpoint a day that he and his grandma or Meg or even Noah had spent any down time together. Hell, the past few weeks he had spent more time with Jensen, what little time that was, than he had with his own sister.

“Jared.” Mark started kindly, lifting and arm and reaching across the space between them to let his hand rest on the broad shoulder next to him. “You haven’t failed. You haven’t let them down.”

“But I haven’t been there.” Jared said voice tinged with regret. 

“Yes you have. Everybody’s had to make adjustments. People lost their homes, their cars, their livelihoods that day. And some, God rest their souls, lost their lives. But we go on. We figure out what needs to be done and we do it. You’ve been doing as much as you could so that Ellie and Megan and Sam and everyone else were freed up to do as much as they could. The Lord has granted us this test to see if we were strong enough and compassionate enough to follow through with our promises; our promises to him, to our loved ones, to our friends, and to ourselves. Every day, I’ve seen so many acts of kindness and devotion. Every day, I thank our Lord for helping us to help others and then to help ourselves.”

“But – “ Jared fought to keep the doubt from his voice. 

“No, Jared. No buts. We are all doing the best we can. Didn’t today show you that we are not defeated, that we all know that the way to rebuild and to replenish our lives is through love?” Mark’s voice soothed over Jared’s uncertainties; his hand on his shoulder, a strong warm presence of strength. “Now, Christian and Megan? Well, I would say it is still too early in their friendship to be able to tell what a possible outcome may be. But for the time being, well, I’d say that they’re both enjoying having someone around that they can . . . well, dance with, I suppose. I think that’s all any of us really want.”

Jared hummed, hoping that the pastor would take that as a reply. He watched as Alona climbed up on stage and whispered in Steve’s ear.

Jared let his gaze follow Mark’s nod and watched as Christian led his sister gracefully around the dance floor. His eye’s followed them as they passed Sterling with his grandma held formally in his arms and Sam staring softly up into the eyes of Sheriff Hutton. He felt the familiar pang of loneliness, deep within his gut, but he had to agree with Mark. Everyone looked content and healthy and that was what was right with world. 

“ How about you, Jared? I thought you and Jim’s young friend Jensen seemed to be hitting it off last night. Or do you suppose that he’s not much on dancing either?” Jared caught the sly tone that Mark was giving off with his blasé questions.

“Jensen?” his voice very nearly squeaked, nearly. He knew that most of the town knew that he was gay, but he hadn’t really even so much as looked at a man with interest for the past two years. And now his minister wanted to counsel him on it. He felt his shoulders tensing as he held back the cringe against the judgment he was no doubt in for.

“Of course the way of the bible is fairly straightforward, but I’m neither a blind man, nor one to believe that the world is black and white, Jared. Now, our forefather’s would disagree, but the world is ever changing as is the interpretations in it. I remember how happy you were when you came back from Austin to visit. With your friend . . . “ Mark trailed off, waiting for Jared to supply a name for him.

“Drew . . .” Jared said quietly, eyes trailing the dwindling crowd as a few of the older townsfolk started to collect their dishes from the serving tables and gather their belongings. “His name was Drew.”

“I’m sorry I never really got to meet him and I’m very sorry for your loss, because he seemed to make you happy. I also know that you haven’t been truly happy since you’ve moved back to Solace. I believe that the Lord, your family, and heck, even I want to see you find that happiness again. It’s looked last night like you were on the path to doing just that. That’s all I’m saying.” Jared watched as Mark rose from the swing and stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the dancers. “In the long run, what we do here on earth comes down to two things; to love one another and to love the Lord. And when we get to Heaven, if we’ve lived right, well, then we only have to answer to the Lord and no one else.”

Jared stood and rubbed his hands together. That was definitely not how he had imagined that talk to go. He could hear the music change yet again; this time there was a rousing beat upheld by someone playing the hell out of a banjo.

“Well, Jared. It’s been nice talking with you, but seeing how some of us have to get up early in the morning and remind all of you to behave yourselves and to say your prayers.” Mark’s self-depreciating laugh was soft in the chill of the night air.

“Mark.” Jared said, shaking hands with the Reverend. “I . . . thanks. For listening, for, well, everything, I guess.”

“Kind of my job, son. Kind of my job. See you in the morning?”

“Of course, Reverend Sheppard.” Jared hadn’t expected to be counseled on his love life tonight, especially by his minister, but what he said rang true. He watched with a bit of awe as Mark wandered back to the dance, stopping occasionally to shake a hand or to offer a ‘good night’. 

As his eyes followed the back of the smaller man, they flashed to the side of the stage where Meg was tipping her head back to accept a small peck from Chris. Jared still wasn’t sure how he felt about that situation, but Meg was a big girl and could handle herself properly. But he was definitely going to keep an eye on those two, he thought.

Beyond Chris and his sister he could make out the seated form of Jensen on the other side of the cement slab. He sat on top of one of the picnic table, boots planted firmly on the wooden seat. The small form of Noah could barely be made out lying curled up in his arms. Jensen’s coat was draped snuggly around the sleeping boy, Jared watched as Jensen let his hand stroke gently over the small dark head on his shoulder. 

Jared held his breath as Mark stopped by the table and offered a parting word to the other man. He saw a soft smile crept over Jensen’s face, smoothing out the lines between his eyebrows, the effect was amazing. Jared felt the tug of desire deep down in his abdomen. 

Jared turned and paced back to the old metal barred merry-go-round stood idle on the far side of the playground. Its green paint was worn in several spots, namely where little grubby hands grasp the edges and where warm rubber soles would slide across the platform after running in the hot Texas sand below.  
Grasping a handle, Jared spun the wheel away from his body and watched as it wobbled out a slow rotation. Again and again, he grabbed it, until it was making a smooth, quick journey around the center post. 

The merry-go-round had always been his favorite on playgrounds, lying on his back, watching the sky and the clouds spin out new designs of faraway places above him, while the green leaves of the trees provided a blurry frame for his lofty dreams. He missed those days. The days when his dreams and hope were still viable, still ahead of him, still full of luster and hope, not in a cold box beneath the ground.

Everyone seemed to keep pushing him and Jensen together, Jim, his grandma, and now his minister. It wasn’t that he minded really. It was just that, every time . . . every time before . . . that he got too close . . . Jared clenched his eyes closed and listened to the rusty whine of metal on metal as the rotating platform whirled slowly in front of him.

Sighing, he watched as the metal contraption in front of him started to lose speed and began quivering around its axis. He silently urged it to last as long as it could, but a few seconds later it rocked to a sad little stop as if it had never been moving. Christ, Jared thought, I’m a maudlin bastard tonight. Wiping one of his large palms down his face, he blew out a breath and decided to rejoin the festivities. He might not be the merriest of the lot, but it would surely be better to be among his friends and family, than to be in the dark with the specters of lost dreams.

 

~***~~~**~~* Jensen *~~**~~~***~

 

The Christmas lights above the dancers twinkled gaily in the spring dusk. Jensen wasn’t one for festivities normally, he’d rather skirt around the edges until it was perfectly acceptable for him to leave. But tonight though, well, tonight he was staying put, he wasn’t going to let his anti-social tendencies or his completely warranted loathing of happy little Christmas lights dampen his spirits.

He had had fun today, really a great time. Excellent food and some of the best hospitality he had ever experienced. It was hard to believe that just little over three weeks ago the town of Solace was reeling in the aftermath of the worse storm to hit the area in over a hundred years. Of course he would be lying to himself if he didn’t give a lot of the credit to Jim and the guys. Jensen knew that if he was being completely honest with himself, he wouldn’t have had such a great time if it hadn’t been for Jared. In fact, he would probably be getting ready to hit the road again.

Jared, who knew everyone, liked everyone, and was liked by everyone. In the past, Jensen usually felt at odds with people, most of the time nobody was at fault, just a general sense of aloofness in his relationships and his surroundings, but here in Solace? Yeah, no. It felt good. It felt right to be amongst these people. And that scared the shit out of him.

Jensen stared at the dust motes that spun wildly through the lights and let his thoughts wander.

_Friday, 17th of December, 1999_

_Jensen could hear the soft tread of footsteps on the second floor over the grunting in his left ear. He sucked in a shaky breath and then another as Jeffrey’s steel-like shaft blazed a burning path between his sweaty upper thighs. He could feel the tender skin around his left hipbone being pinched in the older man’s solid grip. Each ramming thrust brought the head up hard against the backside of his balls, shoving them forward into his own knuckles as Jensen fisted his own cock brutishly; Jeffery’s free hand a vice around his own._

_The Ackles’ annual holiday buffet had never held much interest for Jensen or his brother. It was usually a bunch of faculty and staff from his dad’s theater department, his mom’s coworkers from the health center, and a few nervously twittering students that his dad had deemed worthy enough to take under his wing, so to speak. Every year, Jensen and his brother tried to get out of it and every year they were proven unsuccessful in their attempt. Mackenzie on the other hand loved it; it gave her a chance to dress up and preen around like a princess._

_“I wish I had known . . . known that you would be here.” Jeffery groaned into his ear. “I would have brought something.”_

_This year was not really different than before, except that his brother was still finishing up his semester at the University of Texas and wouldn’t get home until late tomorrow, which left Jensen alone to fight against his presence at the gathering. Jensen had been trying to stay hidden for most of the afternoon in the garage . . . and he had been successful until Mac, the little narc, had ratted him out. So it had been a mostly sullen Jensen that had gasped from his vantage point at the top of the stairs when Jeffery walked in the door held open by Alan Ackles._

_“Can you feel that? Can you? You did this, baby. You.” Jensen ear was growing moist from the panting breaths being directed into it. “You are such a little Lolita. Sashaying about with your hot little ass on display. I am powerless to you and your whorish ways”_

_The footsteps from above had started to descend the kitchen stairs, which were right above the laundry room they were currently hidden in. Jensen twisted his head to see if he could see anything through the louvered slats of the door. But all he could make out was the multitude of the festive rainbow of lights that his mother had draped everywhere._

_“Shhh, pet.” Jeffery whined in his ear as the hand that had been wrapped around his slid up to bracket itself across Jensen’s mouth. “No noise now.”_

_Jensen panicked as his mom’s voice came into the lit kitchen, but the hand that was once clamped over his own whipped up to cover his mouth, stifling his cry._

_“I don’t know where they could have got off to, Samantha.”_

_“It’s okay, Donna. Jeffery probably has the boy cornered somewhere and is quizzing him on something from class. He speaks highly of Jensen, you know. He says that his grasp on psychology is nothing short of brilliant.”_

_Jensen didn’t hear what his mother’s response was as his mind had been snagged on Samantha. Who the hell was Samantha? Jeffery was muttering the word ‘shit’ repeatedly into his neck as Jensen released his cock and braced himself against the dryer in an effort to not to let his belt or anything else clang against the metal._

_“Oh, I’ll bet that Jensen took him outside to show him his new car. Alan was so proud of the team making the playoffs that, well, we got Jeff, our eldest a car for graduation, but Alan wanted to reward Jensen a little sooner. He’s always been a serious and petulant child; middle-child syndrome or some such nonsense. Charles! Hello. Have you met Samantha Smith, Jeff Morgan’s -?”_

_The comment floated through the slats of the door on a wave of tinkling feminine laughter followed by the booming laughter of Charles Reynolds, one of the doctors at the clinic._

_Jensen heard the voices grow faint as the women walked out of the kitchen._

_The hand covering his mouth slid down to his chin and propped his head back far enough that soon his professor’s tongue filled his mouth._

_Jensen could feel the explosion of Jeffery’s come as it painted the underside of his sack and started to roll sluggishly down his thighs._

_The cool metal of the dryer was a shock to his abused and still hard cock as the older man pushed him forward. Trying to catch his breath, Jensen peered over his shoulder to the scene of Jeffery trying to do up the fly of his dress pants._

_“Samantha?” He ventured breathlessly._

_“Not now, Jensen.” Jeffery answered tersely. After fastening his belt, he smoothed his shirttails into his waistband. “We were looking at your car and then we got into a discussion about . . . about . . . about de Clerambault’s syndrome, okay?”_

_“But . . .”_

_“Seriously, Jensen. I need you onboard with this okay?” Jeffery’s eyes hardened until Jensen sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and nodded. “I love you, baby, you know I do. It’s just . . . now is not the time to come clean to your folks, okay? Give me time to work on your dad and then we . . .”_

_Jensen’s eyes dropped away and suddenly he found the image of his flagging erection fascinating._

_“Baby? Oh, come on Jen. You know they wouldn’t be happy with this right now, what with me being your professor. Let’s finish the semester.” Jeffery’s hand caressed Jensen’s shoulder, rubbing a soothing pattern that warmed his skin beneath his rumpled cotton dress shirt. “You’ve just given me the best gift that I’m going to get this year, so let me work on giving you something wonderful as well, let me make this okay with your parents.”_

_Jensen felt the ever-present stubble jerk softly at the flesh on the knob of his neck as Jeffery sucked an possessive bruise onto his skin._

_“Let me go out first, pet, and then you can run up and freshen up and then come back down. Okay?” Something didn’t feel right, but Jensen wanted nothing more than to make Jeffery happy, so he nodded._

_The light from the kitchen filled the room briefly as Jeffery opened the door and slipped out. He never heard Jensen’s whispered “I love you.”_

“Jensen, right?” 

Jensen jerked back to reality as the local minister stopped in front of the table that he was sitting on with a sleeping Noah.

“Yes, sir.”

“Please, call me Mark.” The man said as he reached out and brushed a soft hand over Noah’s hair. “Too much for such a little guy, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“I’ve gathered you’re not much of a church goer . . .” Jensen opened his mouth to apologize to the man, but was silenced as the reverend raised his hand. “Now, now, I’m not saying that finding your tail in a pew every Sunday is for everybody, so don’t worry. Just because I’ve never seen you at church doesn’t mean you’re not doing the Lord’s work. I know that you and your friends came down to help out Jim Beaver, but I’d say y’all have done more than that, wouldn’t you?”

“I . . . we . . . we’ve tried to help where we could.”

“Well, I’d say that you’ve done a wonderful job then and I just wanted to extend my thanks and those of the community. I was just saying pretty much the same thing to Jared over at the playground. How if everyone does their best then that helps others’ to do theirs.” Jensen felt as though he was being had, judging by the twinkle in the preacher’s eye. 

“Um, well, thank you, sir.”

“No need to thank me, Jensen. I just wanted to express the town of Solace’s thanks. You see, Solace isn’t so much a community as it is a family. One big family. Always happy to embrace those that embrace us.” Jensen looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Oh, Jensen. Hon, you didn’t have to hold him.” Jensen smiled as Ellie Padalecki reached out and hefted her great-grandson into her arms. “Hello, Reverend.”

“Miss Ellie, looks like you’ve had a fun night. I think this is just what everyone needed to shake off the cobwebs of grief, would you agree?” He paused as both Jensen and Ellie nodded, “Well I need to be getting on. Need to put the finishing touches in tomorrow’s sermon, so I’ll wish y’all a goodnight.”

Jensen’s whispered “Sir” was overshadowed by the “Goodnight, Reverend Sheppard,” reply from Ellie, a gentle smile gracing her face. He didn’t mind in the least.

Standing awkwardly, Jensen shook out first his right and then left leg, aiming to get a little more circulation moving through his tired appendages. His thighs and chest felt suddenly cold in the soft warmth of the Texas night. Who knew how much heat . . . and comfort, cradling a small innocent body could provide, Jensen pondered.

“You could have just set him down in the chair, dear. He may seem small and fragile at times. But that little boy is a Padalecki, through and through. Sturdy and durable.” Ellie said as she slid Noah in to the folding camp chair, where he sprawled as loose limbed as newborn lamb. She tucked his arms a little closer to his torso and snuggled the hoodie she had pulled from her bag around his little form.

Standing, she reached a hand out and let it graze Jensen’s elbow.

“And how has your night been, Jensen?”

Jensen could tell that what she was asking wasn’t what she wanted to hear necessarily, but she was a lady taught in the finest tradition.

“It’s been good, ma’am. Can’t say if I’ve ever had such a wide variety of food to choose from, nor as much to eat before, but it was all amazing. You all sure know how to do it up right down here.” Jensen patted his stomach as if it was going to burst through the pearl snaps of his shirt at any given moment. “Might have to see if Jim can bring in the tractor with the bucket to load me into the truck.”

“Well, that would definitely be something to see.” Ellie laughed brightly. “So, you didn’t dance? That’s what most folks do to beat the battle of the barbeque bulge.”

“I . . . well, I did a few times, but I’m not terribly coordinated when it comes to dancing. Many a soul have lost toes to these misguided feet.” Jensen replied, not wanting to explain that he only wanted to dance with Jared and somewhere more secluded and definitely horizontal. He blushed at his thoughts and dipped his head to hide his shame for thinking such thoughts in front of a lady, let alone the man of his impure thoughts’ grandmother.

“Oh, my, Jared is exactly the same way. Always scared that he would have to pay for someone’s hospital bills for broken toes. I told him that he just needed to find someone with tough enough boots.” She laughed. “Speaking of Jared, do you know where he got off to? I was going to see about getting this little man home.”

“I think that Reverend Sheppard mentioned that he was over by the playground.”

“Would you be a dear and see if you could find him? Aldis helped me load most everything earlier and Christian is going to make sure that Megan gets home okay.” She smirked at Jensen’s raised eyebrow. “Oh, I know he’s a bit rough, but a bit more teddy bear than grizzly, don’t you think? Kind of like Jim in that respect. Just don’t tell Jim that I called him anything like a cuddly bear, he’ll get all gruff and grumbly. Besides, I think that Meg needs to take life a little bit less seriously, both my grandkids do for that matter and if Christian can help then he’s a godsend. Now, off you go and see if you can’t get that boy of mine to do the same.”

Looking across the dance floor to the darkness beyond, Jensen could hear Ellie humming an old Dolly Parton song as she gathered up the rest of her belongings behind him.

 

***

 

Jared turned from his ponderings, silently willing the small voice in his mind that had been pestering him for the last few days that kept reminding him of his time with Drew to remain quiet and let him go about his business. Drew wasn’t Jensen, only Jensen was Jensen and Jensen was here and hopefully willing. And alive, his mind supplied. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he got three steps from the merry-go-round before a soft ‘hey’ broke his stride.

It was too dark to make out Jensen’s eyes, but from his relaxed stance, fingers of one hand curled around the handrail of the slide ladder, one heel hooked back on the lowest rung, he portrayed the epitome of coolness tempered with white-hot sex. Jared’s mouth went dry as his eyes zeroed in on the most lustful thing he had seen in . . . well, years. But not in forever, the little voice whispered in his brain.

It wasn’t cheating. It’s wasn’t. He thought wildly.

Jared licked his lips and with want and now zinging through his nerves he walked forward, his long legs eating up the ground beneath him. He barely had enough time for his arms to withdraw his hands from his pockets before he grasped Jensen’s biceps and with a final push of desire, slammed his mouth over the plush lips of the nomadic cowboy.

Jensen’s head ricocheted off the metal ladder rung behind him, but as soon as he felt moist heat of the mouth on his and the slippery tongue teasing at the seam of his lips, any resulting bruise or knot was the last thing on his mind.

Unclenching his fingers from the cool metal, he dropped his hands to Jared’s waist, the thin cotton of Jared’s shirt doing nothing to hide the warm flesh below. Jensen opened his mouth and soon Jared’s tongue was making sweeping arcs against his own. He felt more than heard the other man groan as his body pushed Jensen tighter against the ladder. He could feel a telltale form growing harder and harder against his hip.

Any other time, Jensen would have asked for permission for what he was about to do, but the need radiating off of Jared was barely overshadowed by his own. He curled his hands forward until they found their prize. It was a matter of moments before he had Jared’s belt and jeans undone and his hand was firmly gripping the straining cock in front of him.

Jared’s hips stuttered forward as if he could crawl inside Jensen’s body through his hands. Jensen slipped his free hand up to weave his fingers into the chestnut hair on the back of Jared’s head. The strands were as soft as he had imagined that first day, but the ends next to the scalp were growing damp with the heat of the moment. He held Jared’s head steady as he deftly took over the kiss, his tongue plunging in and out in time with the stroke of his right hand below.

“Jen.”

The emotion in that one tiny word, the feelings that bled around the edges broke his concentration.

Jared’s hands suddenly dropped from his arms, where they had been alternately squeezing and stroking to fall to his shirt. The pearl snaps seemed to echo in the night as each one gave way with a simple determined tug. With some pushing from Jared’s long fingers and a mouth that had dropped down along his neck and collarbone, Jensen took an awkward step up upwards and then another; his boot heels barely finding purchase on the slick metal rungs behind him.

Jensen reluctantly let go of the cock in his hand as his body ascended the steps. But that didn’t stop him from tracing along the hard body along the way. His callouses caught briefly at the small strip of hair that ran up to Jared’s taut navel. His nails, uneven from hard work, rasped along the smooth planes of Jared’s tight abs. The soft cotton shirt started to bunch up around his wrists the further up he went, that was until he found the snaps and started popping them one by one.

At the sensation of the hot mouth first circling and then biting at his nipple, Jensen threw his head back, glancing his head off the ladder again, but be fucked if he cared.

Another step up, found Jared’s tongue licking his navel before stabbing obscenely into the divot. He felt Jared’s forearms steel themselves against his thighs as his fingers fumbled with his belt. Jensen braced his hands on the broad shoulders in front of him. He gasped audibly as first the chill of the evening and then the heat of Jared’s tongue touched the sensitive skin on the crown of his cock. The gasp was followed by a whimper as Jared slowly let his mouth slide down and down and down his shaft. Jensen felt the swollen head meet the back of Jared’s throat; the suction of the hot and wet mouth on its return trip was nothing short of divine.

It has been so long.

Jensen tried to keep his hips in check, but he needn’t have bothered with the effort as Jared had him pinned against the ladder, his head bobbing, his hands scrabbling across the soft pale skin of Jensen’s stomach. Jensen kept a hand braced on the junction of Jared’s neck and shoulder; the other caressed the constantly hollowing cheek.

His thumb slipped in the mix of saliva and pre-come that was forming at the corner of Jared’s mouth. He caught some and then lifted it up to his own lips to taste. He couldn’t tell if it was a moan or a groan that escaped Jared’s throat, not that it mattered in the slightest, whatever sound it was, pushed the need to come closer into the here and now.

Jensen could feel the sweaty skin beneath his slipping hand vibrate as Jared’s mouth jerked a few staccato bobs along his shaft. There was moist heat blossoming against his right knee.

A few short moments later, one of Jared’s large hands slipped down and grasped lightly at his balls, a long finger stroking the sensitive skin behind them. A stroke of the finger. A gentle squeeze. Another stroke and Jensen was coming like he never had before. It felt as if every repressed urge, every desire; everything that was ever good in his soul was trying to escape into the better man below.

He felt the underside of the tormented skin of his shaft slide gently over Jared’s lower teeth as he released all the suction that he had been applying and let Jensen’s cock slide free from the humidity of his mouth. 

Jensen closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the ladder rung, barely remembering to be gentle this time and fought to catch his breath. A soft brush of hair against his belly and a powerful set of arms around his hips finally forced him to look down. Jared’s face was buried in his stomach, the light stubble grinding against the tender flesh. Jensen petted his hands lightly through Jared’s dampened hair.

“Thank you.”

Impossibly so, Jared’s whispering lips against his belly caused his heart to tighten and his eyes to mist up.

What had he even done to be given such a gift, let alone to be given it with such kindness and gratitude?

Jared’s arms tightened around his hips, his fingers coaxing goosebumps along the flesh of Jensen’s lower back as they ghosted out a soft pattern into his skin.

Tipping his head back again, Jensen could make out a few stars above through watery eyes. He continued to brush a hand lightly through Jared’s damp locks and his other he lifted to wipe at the moisture starting to run down his face. I don’t deserve this, he thought sadly, I don’t deserve Jared and he definitely deserves better than me.


	7. Chapter 7

“Uncle Jared! Come on, Uncle Jared. Wake up. They’re here. They’re here.” Jared rolled onto his side and opened a squinty, sleep crusted eye at the clock on his bedside table. The red digital numbers mocked him in the darkness. 5:07 Am. Rolling back, he landed flat at the same time as his pajama-clad nephew finished clambering up onto his bed.

“Noah . . .”

“Uncle Jared, they’re here! They came out to see me!” The little boy pulled rambunctiously, yet ineffectually on his hand.

“It’s 5 o’clock in the morning Noah. Nobody in their right mind would be visiting at 5 o’clock.”

The overhead light flipped on right then, causing Jared to flip the arm not currently pinned down by an almost five year-old over his eyes.

“Noah. Jared. Care to explain?”

Jared peeked out at his grandma’s tiny form, wrapped tight in her robe, a sleep muddled expression on her face. He gave a one shoulder shrug as Noah set about ripping his other arm out of its socket.

“G.G., they’re here. They came for my birthday.” The little boy crowed. “Come on, Uncle Jared, come see.”

“Who’s here, baby?” Ellie asked as she entered the room and helped Jared free his arm so that he could sit up. Noah bounded off the bed, stumbling in his excitement.

“The baby chicks are here. I saw one’s nose come out.”

Jared flipped back the covers and stretched his legs down to the floor. His toes curled instinctively into the flannel loop rug beneath them; he scratched at the sleep warmed skin above his pajama bottoms.

“Noah, you weren’t messing with the eggs were you?” 

Both Noah and Jared flinched as she firmly dropped a hand to his shoulder and turned the boy to face her.

“No, G.G. I swears I didn’t touch them. I was just looking at them and I saw one crack and a chicken’s nose came out.” Jared feigned a slight cough to cover his grin with his hand.

Jared glanced up to see the smiling (and relieved) face of his grandma as she tweaked her great grandson’s nose.

“That’s a nose, Noah. Chicken’s, both great and small, have beaks.”

Jared stood then, first snagging a tee shirt from the foot of the bed and then he hefted his nephew into his arms. Reaching out he tweaked his Memaw’s nose gently and received a soft slap to his arm.

“You two . . .” She shook a finger at the two boys that lived under her roof. “Well, come on. Let’s go see these chicks.”

Jared was still grinning as they paraded down to the enclosed kitchen porch, where the eggs were currently incubating as Noah began listing off everybody that he had to tell about the chicks.

 

***

 

Jared was slipping his and Noah’s breakfast plates into the sudsy water when Megan came in from work.

“Morning.” She said as she passed behind him to reach into the fridge for some juice.

“Be prepared for . . .” Jared started to say before the twister called Noah whirled into the room.

“Momma! Come see! We’ve got chickens!”

“Noah. What? No hello? No good morning?” She chided as her grandma nodded her approval from her place at the table.

“Hi Momma, good mornin’. We got chickens, come see.” Jared laughed as his sister rolled her eyes at him while her son pulled her from the room.

“More coffee?” He asked as he refilled his own cup before tipping the carafe of dark brew over his grandma’s mug at her hummed response. He returned the pot to the burner and reclaimed his seat at the table.

“I talked to your momma yesterday. They should be here by dark tonight and Jeff and Tracie will be here sometime tomorrow.”

“Okay. I can move to the couch and the folks can have my room. I don’t know where Jeff and Tracie are going to sleep, but we’ll think of something.” He finished pouring the mound of sugar into his cup and began to stir in the cream.

“Oh, don’t worry about the sleeping arrangements, it’ll all come together. I was just telling you so that you can remember to keep your shirt on. Unless you want a million questions, then by all means, walk around shirtless. Pant-less too, if you so desire.” Jared tipped his head in speculation at his grandma’s sly grin.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He watched as she took what he would call a smug sip of coffee. “What are you talking about?”

“Only that I like Jensen, he’s a very nice young man, thoughtful and Jim thinks highly of him.”

“Yeah, and?” Jared rotated his hand a few times in the universal ‘go ahead’ gesture.

“I’m just saying that I don’t think you got those marks on your chest from working out in the barn.” 

Jared’s face reddened as he pulled out the neck of his tee shirt and looked down. He saw that a few of the scratches and bruises that Jensen had given him the night of the dance were still visible, faded, but noticeable nonetheless. 

He looked up as his grandma rose from her place next to him and cupped his cheek with a tender hand.

“I really do like Jensen, baby. He’s good for you.” And with that she took her mug and walked out to the porch where Noah was explain what he was going to name each chick.

It had been several days, but as Jared brush a hand down to smooth his tee shirt against his torso, he could feel nearly every place that Jensen had touched him. His chest fluttered at the memory.

 

~***~~~**~~* Jensen *~~**~~~***~

 

_“So, honey, what did Jeff Morgan think about your new car?” Jensen’s head shot up at his mother’s voice._

_“Um . . . he liked it. Said . . . he said that it was well deserved.” He continued to stir the soggy mess of grape nuts in his bowl. His mom poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter across from where he sat at the breakfast bar._

_“Did he? That was nice of him. I guess I didn’t realize that he was a big follower of sports.”_

_“I . . . he might have read it in the student paper.” Jensen lifted a sodden spoonful of cereal to his mouth; it was like chewing on a mouthful of cedar mulch._

_“Probably. I gathered from Samantha that it is difficult for her to pry him away from his studies. Seems he’s going for a second doctorate, or at least that’s what I understand.”_

_His mom took a sip of her coffee and then set the porcelain cup down with a soft clink on the marbled countertop. Jensen peeked through his messy morning hair as she adjusted her lavender sweater over her work attire. He wanted to ask about Samantha, but what could he say without giving himself away?_

_“Honey, I need you to finish picking up the living room while I’m at work and could you send the linen through the wash? Just follow the instructions on the tags. Your dad has a meeting at school, some disciplinary thing, but he should be home before four.” Jensen watched as she took another careful sip of her coffee. “If not, I’ve left a casserole in the refrigerator, so just pop it in the oven at 350°. Oh, and Mackenzie has already left on a play date, but if she’s home before your father or I, keep her entertained and out from under the Christmas tree.”_

_Jensen swallowed over the fear in his throat. He hadn’t come back down after Jeff had escaped the laundry room last night. When his dad had come up to get him, he had feigned an upset stomach (true) and vomiting (not so true) as the reason for his freshly showered look and had begged to stay in his room. If he had come downstairs then he had a feeling that he would have found out more about Samantha and why Jeff seemed to be afraid of her being at the party._

_“Jensen? Are you even listening?”_

_“She was . . . is pretty.”_

_“Who?”_

_“Sam . . . Samantha. I think she’s pretty.”_

_“Oh, sweetie, of course she is, but I think she’s a few years too old for you. Besides, I think you would have a fight on your hands.” His mom buttoned her overcoat and then cinched up the belt at the waist. “She told me last night that they’re planning the ceremony to fall on the Friday before spring break, so that she and Jeff can have a decent honeymoon and not some hurried weekend affair.”_

_“Ceremony?” Donna Ackles had her son’s full attention at that. He could feel his eyes bugging out and his mouth was hanging open - he must look like a suffocating fish._

_“Yes, Jensen, ceremony. He proposed like a respectable man, asked her father’s permission and everything. I think it’s romantic. You could have a much worse person to idolize than Jeffery Morgan, that’s for sure.” She retrieved her purse from the chair that it was sitting on and turned to leave the kitchen. “Now don’t forget. Laundry, living room, casserole, and for heavens’ sake, keep your sister away from the tree. Bye, honey, see you tonight.”_

Jensen barely registered the thud of the front door as it closed behind his mother. Leaving his bowl on the counter, he took the stairs two at a time and headed for his bathroom. As it was, he barely made it as his knees slammed to the tile and he started retching.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jensen took a deep breath and then blinked his eyes a few times to find himself still in the sun-dappled fork of one of the older pecan trees on Jim’s property. The trees were larger the further away from Jim’s house they went, which made sense, since those closer to the Beaver/Padalecki property line had been there longer as they were planted first. 

Climbing down, Jensen gathered his tools and walked to the nest tree on the line.

Jensen propped the ladder at the base of the next tree and climbed high enough that he could get decent footing along one of the sturdier branches. He pulled on the rope that ran through the carabineer on his work belt until the pail of tools slowly swung from its resting place at the base of the tree up to where he was roosting. Pulling the handsaw from the bucket, he set about trimming the branches around him that had been damaged in the storm.

In the near month that he and the boys had been here, trimming and fixing trees, was the one thing that Jensen could count on. With Chris at the diner or out with Megan Padalecki and Steve spending more time working the livestock with Rich, Jensen found himself up a tree most of the time; more often than not, alone, save Mr. Buzz Mouser Man. Some days, Rob would come out and help him or even Jim, when everything else needed to keep a farm operational was done, but for the most part Jensen climbed tree after tree, trying to salvage as much of the orchard as possible.

At first he spent the hours of silence pondering the lives of those that came before him, working the pecan groves, trying to eke out a living. The days following the storm, he would wonder how the town of Solace was dealing with the crappy hand they were dealt. The number of hours that he spent trying not to delve into his own past was staggering as well as unsuccessful, hell, he could actually draw up the timeline of fail that is was his life up ‘til now. Lord knows, he spends enough time thinking about the past.

Here lately though, it was Jared that seemed to take up every second of idle thought. The man was kind and generous and thoughtful, considerate nearly to a fault, but he was also scorching hot and utterly desirable as well. The past few nights, Jensen had awoken with the image of Jared blowing him in the playground; in the quiet dawn it was easy to remember the moist heat below his belt. At first, he tried to not touch himself as the remembrance cropped up, but since Jensen had decided that it was never going to happen again, it was the perfect memory to relive one-handed.

He had only seen Jared twice since last Saturday night. Once from a distance, as he and Steve had gone into town to fetch Chris from the diner. Jared was just going in with Noah and lifted a hand in greeting. Jensen had opted to stay in the truck like a chicken shit as Steve got out and went to let Chris know that they were there. The second time was yesterday morning when Jared rode up on a beautiful paint horse to invite him and Rob, who was working with him and everyone else on the Beaver farm to Noah’s birthday party on Saturday night. Rob, of course, spoke up and replied that they would all be there. 

Yeah, Jensen thought, there’s a lot to be said for working alone.

He was scheduled to head up to Nebraska in May to help with planting. It was a gig that he had done the past few years and the family was great, mom, dad, and three daughters, no reason to get attached. 

“It’s stupid really,” Jensen spoke aloud to the tree branch he was working on. “What’s with this sudden desire to be more like Kane. A real love ‘em and leave ‘em kinda guy. But no, I had to go and be friends with the guy, get invested in the guy’s feelings, his family. Fuck.” he groused, not caring who heard.

He was calling the Bellman’s as soon as he was done for the day. If he didn’t move on soon, then somebody was going to get hurt.

 

***

 

“Yeah? Sure, I think that sounds okay. What? Sure, sounds like a plan then, Roger.” Jensen was pacing the drive, talking on the phone when Chris came out of the house and slugged him in the arm; hard enough to send him into the side of his truck. “Ow. I . . . No, no, I’m okay, just dropped a wrench on my foot.”

He glared at Kane, but the long haired freak merely glowered back, his arms crossed defiantly as he waited for Jensen to get off the phone, now that he had his attention.

“Heh, you’re right about that, Roger. Look, I better get back to workin’ on the truck if I’m going to make it up there soon.” He lifted his middle finger to Chris and walked to the front of the truck, where the hood was open and random parts were laying loose along the edge. “Be sure and say hi to the missus for me and to put her feet up. And tell those daughters of yours that I’ll be there soon to drive away every new boyfriend they bring home. Yeah, will do, Roger. Yep, bye.”

He turned away from where Steve had the truck tore apart and walked back towards Chris.

“What the hell, asshole. I was on the phone.” He stood solidly in front of his friend, fists planted firmly on his hips.

“What is with you, you pussy?”

“Excuse me?” Jensen shot an evil eye at the man across from him.

“Meg said that you’re ignoring Jared. Said that you’re being all sullen and bitchy.”

“She called me sullen and bitchy?” Jensen was confused now. Megan had been nothing if overly nice to him ever since that first night at the hospital. Hell, if she and Chris hadn’t been messin’ around, he would have thought that she was making a play for him.

“No. Those are my words, but she alluded to the fact that you are being sullen and bitchy.”

“Alluded? What makes me sullen and bitchy? The fact that I’ve been working instead of playing around. You know working the orchard for Jim, like I planned on when we came down here.” Jensen now crossed his arms to mimic his friend.

“You’re sullen and bitchy . . .”

“Look, quit saying sullen and bitchy and just spit out what you’re accusing me of.” Jensen interrupted.

“Fine. You’ve been . . . morose and cranky since Easter. I’m guessing you and Jared hooked up at the dance and maybe he shot you down, but that’s not the vibe I’m getting from Meg. No. I’m guessing that it was you that put the kibosh on whatever you and Jared were up to and now you’re pissy about it.

“Pissy?”

“Quit saying everything I say, you fuck. What I want to know is what is wrong with Jared?” Chris ground out.

“There’s nothing wrong with Jared. He’s a nice guy, great guy in fact. I just . . .”

“If he’s such a _great guy_ ,” Jensen scowled at Chris’s use of air quotes “Why the hell did you screw around with him and then ignore him? I thought that you guys were . . .”

“I’m not ignoring him. I’m working. He’s got a farm to run, a family to support. I . . .”

“If you say that you don’t have any of that, I’ll lay you out where you stand.” Chris slammed a fist into an open palm.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say, dammit. While it is true that I do not have a family and I do not have a farm, I wasn’t going to say that. I . . . I don’t know . . . look, I don’t know if you noticed, but I don’t have any of that. I don’t have anything.”

“Whatever. That’s your argument? Really?” Jensen tensed at the mocking tone that was dripping from Chris’s voice.

“I don’t.” he nearly shouted. “All I got is a busted down truck, a few coffee cans of change and a head and heart full of shit memories. Hell, my own family wants nothing to do with me. I got no home, ‘sides the back of my truck, and piss-little education. All I’m good for, Kane . . . are you listening? All I’m good for is my word and my strong back. I work. That’s all I can do. Nothing else. You got that? I’ve got nothing else to offer anyone, especially someone like Jared.” Jensen was nearly panting as he finished with his diatribe. “You get it now, you bastard. I’ve got nothing.”

Turning on his heel, Jensen stormed out to the trees beyond the barn and kept walking. He heard Kane calling after him, but if he was to turn back or Chris was to come after him, he knew that they would come to blows, something they had never done before.

 

~***~~~**~~* Jared *~~**~~~***~

 

“You couldn’t have cut your hair?” Jared grinned at his dad’s comment as he headed down the porch steps and wrapped his arms around him.

“Hey, dad.”

“Leave him alone Gerald. I think it looks good, pretty. I think you might be a bit jealous is all.” Jared smiled at his mother’ little jab at his dad’s nearly bald pate as she climbed out of the car.

“Hi, Momma.” He left his dad’s embrace for a tighter one from his mom. He heard the wooden screen door bounce off the wall. “3, 2, 1 . . .”

“Noah Markus, you get your little butt back here and open the door correctly.”

Jared stood with his arm wrapped around his momma’s shoulders as the chastised boy trudged back up the steps to where Jared’s sister stood just inside the door.

“I pretty sure that she got that from you, momma.” He laughed.

As soon as Noah stepped into the house and opened the door for his mother and then closed it properly, he turned and with a nod from Meg, he flew down the stairs.

“Grandma! Grandpa!” They all laughed as the little monkey barreled into his grandpa’s legs and then scampered up into his arms. “I’m five! I’m five! I’m five!” He kept crowing. 

Soon, Ellie joined the party on the lawn, wiping her hands on her apron, and hugs were passed around again.

 

~***~~~**~~* Jensen *~~**~~~***~

 

Watching from his position in the trees, Jensen watched as Meg introduced Christian to her parents. Even from this distance, he could make out Kane’s ‘aww shucks’ routine as Mrs. Padalecki fawned all over him.  
At first when he first heard the longhaired part-time cook walking through the trees behind him, he was sure that he was coming to pick up their fight where they left off. But as Chris passed by the tree that he had slipped behind, Jensen made out his friends carefully combed ponytail and nicely pressed shirt. From then on it was he that followed Chris up until the other man confidently cleared the trees and walked purposefully up to the house where the many generations of Padalecki’s sat on the porch, talking and sipping beers or tea.

Jensen knew that he could have followed Chris all the way to the porch and more likely than not, he would have been handed a beer and been invited to sit as well, but something stopped him. It wasn’t that he was scared . . . well, he was scared a bit, but it more that he and Chris’ argument was gnawing away up in his brain. 

Jared. Jared was everything that Jensen could ever want. He was kind and friendly, giving and sweet, and funnier than hell. He had the body and soul that fit perfectly into the empty abyss that had been Jensen’s heart for years now. 

But he also had a tight, close-knit family that cared about him, a well-run farm that he had slaved over in his granddad’s stead until it was producing the same results, if not more than the senior Padalecki. He had responsibilities and good standing in the community that he fulfilled without doubt.

And what do I have? Jensen muttered bitterly to himself. A rusted Ford and not much more.

Jensen tensed as Chris took Jared aside and spoke to him. He couldn’t hear the words, but from Jared’s suddenly serious expression and rigid stance, Jensen was more than sure that whatever was being said was about him. He half expected Jared to start for the trees and his hiding spot, but Jared just shook his head and clapped a hand onto Chris’ shoulder and they went back to the house.

Externally Jensen sighed in relief, but in his gut he could feel the curling talons of disappointment start to pull and stretch at his muscles. He didn’t know what he would have said or if it would have even made sense to Jared when he came out to where he was, but the fact that he didn’t . . . well, Jensen didn’t know how to handle the new wave of self-loathing that was starting to overspill in his mind.

He watched Jared and his mom chase Noah all about the fenced in yard. Soon Chris and Meg joined in. The little boy’s shrieks of laughter reached Jensen as he was busy calling himself every form of coward that he could think of; he was so pre-occupied that he hadn’t even heard anyone walk up.

“They’re his parents, you know.” Came Steve’s quiet voice from a tree or two away.

“Figured as much.” He replied as Jared snagged Noah and held the squirming boy loftily over his head with one hand.

“Came up for the party.”

“Yeah.” Jensen caught a glimpse of Steve next to him, closer now, in the light of the setting sun.

“You know that you would be welcome to join in the fun, right? That you could go up there and be welcomed with open arms.”

“I . . . probably. I just . . . you know me, Steve. You know how comfortable I am around people. Families.” Jensen turned his head to see the serious blue eyes of one of his only friends boring right back into his. “I . . . I don’t know, Steve.”

“Is it because of Chris? What he said back at the house?”

“You heard that?” Jensen’s mouth dropped open into a little ‘o’ before sealing back into a tight line. 

“Jensen, we all heard that. I’d be surprised if the whole town of Solace didn’t hear it.”

Jensen didn’t say anything for a few moments. He and Steve stood in silence and watched as the game of tag shifted to everyone chasing Meg and then Chris. It seemed as if he could physically feel the cracks in his heart beginning to widen, his blood was running quick with doubt and fear.

“What I said was true, Steve. I . . . I have nothing to offer a guy like Jared.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a bit heavier against the pecan tree.

“I call bullshit, Jen. You have a lot to offer him, to offer anyone. You’re just scared to put yourself out there.” Steve held up a hand to ward off a reply. Jensen shut his mouth and looked over at Steve, who’s blond hair was haloed in some of the last remaining rays of the sun. “You’ve been burned, I get that. We all have at some time or another. And yours was bit worse than any of mine have ever been. You lost a lot more than most. But don’t you think that it may be time to take a chance again? Take what’s being offered?”

Jensen glanced back to the porch where everyone had settled down again and were eating something out of Ellie’s pretty flowered bowls. 

“And what do you think is being offered, Steve? I wasn’t even invited to come over here tonight, did you know that? Chris obviously was, but I wasn’t.”

“Chris wasn’t either, but he wanted to make a good impression on Meg’s folks.”

“Fine, whatever. I just . . . I didn’t want to impose.” Jensen stated, an unsure waver tempering the petulance in his voice.

“As if Jared or any of them for that matter, would look at you as an imposition.” Steve scoffed lightly. “Look, Jen. I’m not one for telling people what to do, you know that much, right? I just . . . these past few weeks you’ve been so happy and well, I like to see you happy. Hell, in the past two weeks alone I’ve seen you doing things just to do them, not because it’s required of you for work. Don’t look at me like that, it’s true.”

Jensen was scowling at him, which made Steve’s serious expression crack into an open grin.

“Really, Steve? Like what?”

“Horseback riding, trips into Dallas, fishing to name a few. And all of those have been with Jared. Even Jim was saying how nice it’s been that you’ve been going into breakfast with him at the diner. Said you’ve been talkin’ more, too. Hell, I’ve heard you talk more in the past few weeks than I think I’ve heard you say in the past year.”

“So. I talk. I don’t see what that or fishing or riding or anything has to do with me being happy or even Jared.”

“It has everything to do with you being happy AND with Jared. Jesus, Jen! I mean, c’mon, he even got you to go to church.” Steve voice raised as if imploring Jensen to hear what he was saying; to really listen to him.

“It was Easter. Everybody goes to church on the holidays.” Jensen replied bullishly.

“You don’t.” Steve pointed out. “In the years that I have known you, you’ve never even stepped into a church. Not even for Ryan Lawson’s funeral back in Pergation after he fell from that silo.”

“I went to the graveside services.” Jensen argued.

“That’s not the point, Jen and you know it. What I’m saying is that since we got to Solace, you’ve become a different man, a better man. Not that you were a bad guy before, but now you seem like someone who seems to actually likes to be around others, who likes to have fun and tease and joke around. Someone who enjoys being alive. I’m not saying that you don’t get the work done first, but that when it’s time to kick back and have a beer with friends, you’re one of the first ones there and I don’t know if I’ve ever seen that before. You willingly being social.” Jensen knew that Steve wasn’t trying to pick a fight and in all the years that he had known him, Steve had never blatantly lied to him, but to hear what he was saying now seemed so foreign.

Jensen shoved off the tree and paced to the next tree on the lot and then back to Steve. He turned to look at the enormity of the orchard that separated where they stood and Jim’s farm. He knew that he should tell Steve about his plans to head north, but something made him stop. Steve would try to talk him out of it and talk him into giving Jared a shot, an argument could be made that was what Steve had already been doing. 

Jensen looked, really looked at the pecan trees, each with their strong trunks and their sturdy branches, and a speck of hope grew within his heart. If they could stay rooted during a tornado and survive to leaf out and bear another crop, then he too could find the strength to settle down and put in some roots of his own.

Steve was still watching him, a serious yet calm expression graced his soft features. Jensen sighed and walked back towards the blonde.

“Well? What do you think, Jen?”

“I think . . . it’s too late to go calling tonight.” Jensen held up his hand as Steve started to open his mouth to respond. “It is. Besides, I best get back and wrap up my gift for Noah. I can’t show up empty handed tomorrow. What kind of impression would that make?”

Steve grinned at him and stood straight from his relaxed position against the tree. Throwing an gentle punch against Jensen’s shoulder, he laughed as it was returned.

“What did you get him?”

“I didn’t get him anything. I’m making him something every cowboy should have. And you’ll just have to wait until he opens it to find out what it is.” Jensen answered as they started back through the trees towards the Beaver farm, laughter from the gathering at the Padalecki’s, echoing over their shoulders.

“You can be a real bitch, you know that, Ackles?”

“Ditto, Carlson.”

 

***

 

The wind had picked up sometime between sunset and when Jensen had crawled into his sleeping bag at ten. He had tossed and turned for a while, his thoughts of staying battling with his agreement with the Bellman’s. He had always prided himself on standing firm behind his word and he had been hasty in finalizing his plans, but now . . . now he his sense of self-preservation was running on fumes and the closest fuel wasn’t anywhere to be found.

The soft patter of rain started to fall on the truck topper above him. He punched his pillow a few times and flipped onto his other side, but it was still several long minutes later before he found himself in an uneasy doze. 

“Jensen?”

Jensen’s eyes flipped open at the knocking on the lid to the camper shell.

“Jensen? You in there?”

He sat up and could make out a shadowy form beyond the scratched Plexiglas. Its arm raised so that a hand could curl protectively around the person’s eyes. Scooting down he jiggled the handle to signal whoever it was to back up or get smacked in the chin and then raised up the hatch.

“Hey . . . um . . .sorry. I woke you didn’t I? Shit. I can . . .”

“Jared! What’s wrong? Is it Noah? Ellie?” Jensen turned to find a tee shirt and his jeans. He was reaching for his boots when one of Jared’s firm hands, damp with rain, clasped around his wrist.

“No. It’s nothing. Nobody . . . everybody’s okay, Jensen. I just . . . I think that I screwed up and . . . look can I come in?” Jared’s voice was mellow aside from his obvious stammering. Jensen shuffled back on his knees and threw his jeans back where he had grabbed them from.

“Um, sure? It’s not very big, but . . . watch your hea . . . ow.” Jensen winced at the same time that Jared ricocheted his head off the top of the camper as he rolled over the tailgate.

“OW!” 

Jensen tried not to laugh as he watched Jared lying there on his back with his head cradled in one of his large hands, the other still firmly grasped against the top of the tailgate. His knees hung over the edge, still on the outside of the truck.

“You okay?” Jensen asked as he tentatively touched his hand to Jared’s shoulder.

“Ow. Yeah. How do get in here every night?” Jared asked still rubbing at his head while trying to sit up and draw in his long legs at the same time.

“Well, I usually lower the tailgate, but . . . well, you didn’t give me a chance to tell you that before you dived willy-nilly into my home.” He laughed at the cross-eyed look on Jared’s face. It was dim in the truck but the yard light filtered in enough to see. “Who do you think you are, James Bond? All tucking and rolling away from the enemy?”

“No!” Jared stated. “I remember being able to do that in granddad’s truck when I was a kid. I figured I still could.”

“Were you as giant as a kid as you are now?” Jensen asked reaching forward to lower the lid after Jared’s booted feet finally were pulled inside.

“Well, no, but I thought the concept was still the same.” Jensen laughed at Jared’s pouting face.

“You look just like Noah, when he doesn’t get his way.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment then, what with him being such a charmer and all.” Jared puffed out his chest with pride.

“I’m sure he learned it from you anyway.” Jensen tipped is head and studied his visitor. “So two things.”

“Yeah?”

“I . . . um, could I ask you to take off your boots? It’s just that this is my bed and all and well that there is mostly mud, I hope.” He pointed at Jared’s lace-ups, where they lay caked around the edges in a dark heavy mud.

“Shit! Sorry.” Jared started to unlace them.

“It _is_ shit?” Jensen knew it probably wasn’t but Jared was so easy to wind up.

“No! I . . . it’s not shit, I was just saying shit, you know to say sorry, but . . . it’s mud . . . I . . . you already know that.” Jared stopped stuttering and cocked an eyebrow at Jensen’s mirthful face. “You’re a Jerk, Jensen Ackles.”

“And you, bitch, are too easy.” Jensen leaned over and tapped on the little pop light that he had affixed to the ceiling over the head of the bed.

“So?” Jared asked.

“So what?”

“You said two things. What’s the second thing?” Jared asked as he lined up his boots on the plastic bag next to Jensen’s.

“Oh, yeah, the boots and the second thing is why are you here?” Jensen held up two fingers to illustrate a second question.

“Yeah . . . um, did I say sorry for waking you up?” Jared peered up from beneath his damp tendrils that were usually his shaggy bangs.

“You did.” Jensen confirmed “Are you drunk?”

“What?!? No! I had like one or two, but I’m not drunk.” 

Jensen cocked his head trying to gauge for himself, but Jared seemed pretty sober. Hell, Jared seemed just plain pretty, sitting all wet and folded up on his bed.

“So . . .”

“So, I was out walking . . . and thinking and while I was walking and thinking, I thought it would be a good idea to come see you and, well, have I done something to make you mad at me? It’s just that . . . Kane said that you weren’t mad, but I haven’t seen you and you haven’t come to the diner or to the house and . . . well, my folks got here tonight and Kane came over to meet them and I don’t . . . want you mad at me.” The happiness from the earlier joking drained away from Jared’s hazel eyes, leaving them imploring and vulnerable. Jensen felt his stomach curdle in shame. “I like you, Jensen. I like you a lot and I thought that we were . . . I don’t know . . . getting somewhere. But ever since the dance . . .”

“I had fun at the dance!” Jensen spoke up, not really feeling the need to defend himself, but basically to give Jared the opportunity to catch his breath. “I did . . . and well, I wasn’t expecting . . . you know . . . but I – it was amazing.”

Jensen could see Jared’s eyes darken above the blush spreading across his cheekbones. From the heat that was prickling across his own skin, he knew that he was flushing just as much as the other man. Jensen crossed his arms over his bare chest, cursing himself for not putting on the tee shirt he had grabbed earlier.

“Yeah, it was.” Jared agreed. “And then . . . I haven’t seen you since then, Jensen. So you can see how I might wonder what I did wrong.”

A minute or two of silence filled the truck as each man looked anywhere else but at each other. Sucking in a shallow breath, Jensen allowed his gaze to raise from his hands and focused on Jared. It was another few moments before Jared looked up.

“You did nothing wrong, Jared. You have . . . . I’m an ass, you know.” Jensen started. “I’ve been telling myself not to get to know anyone in Solace, not to get attached –“

“Why? Why would you not want to get to know someone?” Jared interrupted. “What so wrong with us? Do you think that everyone in Solace are backwater hicks?”

“No! You’re putting word in my mouth.”

“Then explain it to me, Jensen, what did we do that you don’t want to be friends with anyone?” Jensen felt like wilting beneath the defiant glare that Jared was giving him. 

“It’s not that. Christ, Jared. The people of Solace are great. Everyone I’ve met has been so welcoming, so nice. Well, Alona comes on a bit strong and that nurse, Katie keeps staring at me funny, but otherwise, the people of Solace are some of the best I’ve ever met.”

“So why wouldn’t you want to get to know them?” The anger had bled out of Jared’s voice as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving his tone to take on a hurt quality.

“I . . . I told you the first day, remember? I told you that I’m not good with people. That I don’t know how to talk to them –“

“But you talk to them just fine. I’ve spent hours with you and barring that first day, you’ve been great. I thought. Well, never mind what I thought, just . . . I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to get to know people, why you wouldn’t want to be friends with them when they all like you just fine.” Jared gave him a sad smile as he rested a hand on Jensen’s knee.

“I’ve . . . wait. What did you think?” It was dirty pool, but Jensen so did not want to explain why he couldn’t trust anyone and why he ran like a man on fire away from anything that resemble any form of relationship, be it family, romantic, or otherwise. Plus the touching was breaking down his reserve.

“When? What?” If the moment hadn’t been so serious, Jensen would have laughed at the confused look that Jared gave him.

“You said I thought and then said never mind. I was wondering what you thought. It must have been important.”

“It wasn’t. I was just going to say that I thought . . . that you’ve been really good with everyone. Look, I know the sign on the edge of town calls everyone in Solace a ‘Good Nut’, but for the most part, they’re good natured, hard-working folks and when they see that in someone else, well, they have a tendency to open their arms wide and invite them in. And I think that you and Steve and hell, even Kane could set up here for the unforeseeable future and nobody would ever say anything about it. Y’all are one of us now.”

Jensen stared at Jared. He wanted to dispute that what he said a) wasn’t what he was thinking when he first spoke and b) wasn’t true in the slightest. Picking at some fuzz on the sleeping bag below him, Jensen sighed. If this topic continued on much further it, was either going to end with Jensen leaving in a huff and wouldn’t that just be the stupidest thing, leaving his own home or he was going to spill his guts. Neither option sounded great, but both were definite possibilities.

“Jensen. I’ve said it before. I like you and I want us to be friends and to talk and to go on rides and go fishing and we don’t ever have to do what we did the night of the dance again. I’m not saying that I wouldn’t be upset by that, but I’m a big boy and I can deal.”

Jared got up on his knees and shuffled closer to Jensen’s position near the cab of the truck. He settled down next to him and placed a hand oh so softly on Jensen’s arm.

“What I can’t deal with is the fact that something is going on and you won’t talk about it. I’m your friend and as such I want to be there for you when you need me. You don’t have to tell me everything. Hell, you don’t have to tell me anything. Just . . . please, Jensen, don’t lie to me and don’t shut me out.”

Jared’s hair was still damp as he laid his head on Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen watched as his hand slowly slid down his arm and those long, dexterous fingers wiggled and wove until they meshed with the shorter ones of Jensen’s left hand.

The rain continued to fall outside, echoing noisily off the roof. Jensen jumped at the quick flash of lightening lit up the yard beyond the window.

“We’re safe in here, right?” Jared asked, practically yelling to be heard over the racket above them.

“As safe as can be. We can make a run for the house, if you want. Head for Jim’s basement.” Jensen wasn’t insensitive enough not to remember that Jared had just come through a bad storm a month ago. “C’mon.”

Jared’s hand pulled Jensen back against his chest when he had made to crawl away.

“No. I . . . what would you do if I weren’t here right now? Would you be sleeping through it? Or would you be headed in?” Jensen felt light headed at the feel of the soft cotton shirt that separated his bare back from the solid mass of muscles that made up Jared’s chest.

“I definitely would not be sleeping, but I don’t think that I would be heading in either.” They both jumped as thunder shook the world around them. “I . . . Jim’s probably on the scanner or something. He told me that he knew about the tornado from that long before he got word from town. So if . . . he’ll send someone for us, well, me and you by surprise, if it gets bad enough.”

“Yeah?” The question was ghosted against the soft skin behind Jensen’s right ear.

“Ye - ah.” Jensen stuttered. 

“Can I stay here then? With you? It’s not that I’m scared –“

“You just don’t want to get wet again?” Jensen ventured giving him an out, not that he blamed him if he wanted to admit to being even a tiny bit frightened.

“Well, that and I am a bit scared, but this isn’t like the last time.”

“No?”

“No. I didn’t have my big Ackles’ bear to hold onto for protection.” Jared let out an oof as Jensen dropped an elbow back to connect with is ribs. “Hey, that was a compliment, you ass.”

Jensen turned and gave Jared a cross look, but ended up laughing at the mock pout he received in return.

“Yep, just like Noah.”

“Again, I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jared stated matter-of-factly.

“Do you need to call home?” 

“Well, actually, um, no. My parents are in my room and I’m on the sofa tonight. When I was leaving, Memaw was still up and I told her that I was coming over here. She know that I’m smart enough to stay put.” Jared’s cheeks pinked at his admission. 

“So, you were just walking and thinking, huh?”

“I was! I walked over here didn’t I? and I was thinking the whole time of what I was going to say. So shut up, Jen. I didn’t lie.” Jared pushed at Jensen’s shoulder, laughing as Jensen poked him in the ribs.

“Fine, but I bet that you’ll regret not sleeping on a comfortable sofa, you big doofus.” Jensen teased.

“Have you ever slept on our sofa? I’ll take that bet, big guy.” Jared retorted.

“Okay, but I’m going to need your help in fixing up a bed for two. I don’t have guests over too often. So shift your ass, Padalecki.” He swatted at Jared’s thigh as the lightening continued to light up the night outside their metal cocoon.

Between the two of them they were able to unzip the sleeping bag and lay it on top of the foam sleeping pad that comprised of Jensen’s mattress. By layering the smaller blankets and then topping the whole thing off with Jensen’s grandma’s quilt, the bed looked big enough for two. Jensen pointed out that they were going to be forced to share the pillow, a fact, Jared replied with a leer, that he would have no problem with.

It was nearly midnight when the tap light had been tapped off and the storm had blown over, leaving the thunder to rumble in the distance and a soft, steady smattering of rain on the camper.

They stayed awake a bit longer with Jensen telling Jared about some of the worst jobs he had ever held and then some of the best. Jared in turn told Jensen about his accident and his second return to Solace, in which Jensen’s arms tightened around him and Jared grew sleepy from the repetitive sensation of Jensen’s hand stroking though his hair. 

Sometime after Jared had fallen asleep, his head pillowed on Jensen’s chest and a long, softly furred leg tucked up in between his own, Jensen lay awake. He ran his hand through the now dry hair that tickled his chin and thought about what his next move should be, he sighed and closed his eyes, but deep dimples and bewitching hazel eyes plagued his sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

The was a fine and steady tapping on the metal roof above him as Jensen rolled to his side under the mound of blankets. Lifting the quilt up, he buried his nose in the worn cotton flannelling trying to warm it minutely in the chill of the damp Texas dawn. He grinned then frowned at the scent of Jared that wove its way into his nostrils.

He knew that Jared would be gone when he woke in the morning. Hell, he had been woken by a small kiss earlier as Jared slipped into his jeans and had rather ungracefully stumbled over the tailgate into the darkness a couple of hours ago. With a final firm grip on Jensen’s ankle and a ‘see you at the diner’, Jared had lowered the camper lid as quietly as he could and Jensen had rolled over to warm himself in the space that Jared had until recently been lying in.

Jensen was in too deep and the sooner he acknowledged it to himself, the sooner he could deal with it. But did he want to, Jensen asked himself, did he want to have to explain to Jared that he was going to be leaving soon and see the look of hatred the other man’s face was going to aim at him? No, would be the answer, but it was inevitable in the near future. He had already promised Roger Bellman that he would be up in Nebraska for the planting season, so at least he had a month before he had to say goodbye; breaking his own heart and possibly Jared’s in the process.

Taking another in another deep breath, Jensen closed his eyes and imagined the feeling of Jared’s arms still holding him as tight as they had a few short hours ago. It would be hard to believe for most people, but last night had been the first time that Jensen had ever slept next to a man without it being a result of a drunken one-night stand. Even way back in Chicago and his brief, yet volatile affair with Jeff, the nights had ended with him slipping, aching and bruised, from the couch in Jeff’s office to do the painful walk of shame back to his dorm room or his car.

It had felt good, the weight of Jared’s hard body holding him down; his lips ghosting a steady warm breath against his cheek. It was addicting enough, Jensen pondered that if it happened even once or twice more, would he be strong enough to say goodbye? 

Opening his eyes, Jensen watched as the raindrops speckled the glass of the small window of the camper top. Each drop splotched onto the window only to be overrun by the small rivulets cascading down from the window frame. He sympathized with them on some weird base level within his mind. As what he wanted to do and what he dreamed about was currently being swallowed up by what he needed to do to survive.

Sighing, Jensen sat up. A shiver ran through his extremities as the damp morning air touched the skin of his bare chest. He didn’t want the day to start. He didn’t want to go to breakfast, to go work in the orchard, to go to Noah’s party and see the boy’s happy face as he ripped open his gifts. No. Jensen wanted to stay here, in this bed, in his truck, breathing in the stale air that Jared had breathed in during the night. 

He didn’t want to say goodbye to the town of Solace . . . or to Jared. But he knew that if he started to extract himself now . . . well, when the time came it would hurt less. Right?

 

~***~~~**~~* Jared *~~**~~~***~

 

Waiting for the coffee maker to finish brewing, Jared leaned back against the counter, his weight held fast by his hands curling around the Formica counter-top, worn smooth by the years. Behind his closed eyes, he could visualize the image of Jensen’s sleeping face, lips curled in a satisfied smile, his long lashes brushing his cheekbones, the freckles that covered his nose and the soft reddish-gold stubble that graced his chin.

It had been unbelievably hard for Jared to extract himself from the warmth of Jensen’s arms earlier this morning, so he had laid there for nearly half an hour, free to stare in the soft light afforded him by the glow of the yard light through the rain speckled window. One thing he knew for sure after waking Jensen enough to say goodbye and climbing out of the truck to begin his journey home, he was going to make sure that he got to wake up in Jensen’s arms again. Many more times, if he had his way.

“Good Morning, JT.” Jared’s eyes popped open as his mom crossed the threshold into the kitchen.

“Morning, momma. Coffee?” Jared didn’t wait for her reply he reached down a second cup from the cupboard and filled both of them from the now full steaming pot at his elbow. Picking them both up he walked to the table and placed them both down before turning to grab the cream from the refrigerator.

“Thanks, hon. How did you sleep last night?” Jared gave her a speculative glance, but she seemed intent on stirring the cream into her cup.

“Fine. Woke up a little with the thunder, but otherwise . . .” he replied reaching for the sugar bowl. “How about you?”

“Oh, just fine, well, just fine after we got Noah calmed down. He reminded me a little of you last night, screeching bloody murder at the first crack of thunder and then diving in bed with your father and I.”

“I only did that a few times.” Jared murmured.

“Jared, sweetie, you did that nearly every thunderstorm up until you were around nine-years-old.” She laughed.

“I did not. Six, even seven, maybe, but not nine.” He scowled.

“Nine.” Sherri reaffirmed. “Anyway, it likely scared your father half to death, when Noah dove into our bed last night.”

“Oh. Yeah, I . . . with Megan working a lot of night shifts; he usually heads for my room, if he’s not there already.” Taking a sip of coffee, he allowed it to cool a bit on his tongue before letting it slide down his throat.

“I figured as much. It’s just when I came down to get him a glass of warm milk, you weren’t on the sofa.” Jared caught the question in her statement.

“I . . .” he rolled the mug slowly on its base, the liquid inside kissing the rim, but never sloshing over. “I was over at the Beaver farm. Memaw knew.” He said finally.

“Oh. Was Jim having a problem?” Jared knew that she was fishing now. His grandma or Meg had more than likely let it slip out last night that he and Jensen were doing some weird pigtail-pulling dance of interest.

“No. I . . . Jensen is one of the guys that came down from Wyoming, along with Chris, to help him out. Jim knew him back when he lived up there. And Jensen and I, well, I don’t know exactly what we’ve been doing, but . . . we seem to get on really well and he – “ 

“It’s okay, Jared. You’re an adult and can do what you will. I was just worried last night, when you weren’t on the sofa.” She reached out and covered his free hand with one of her more dainty ones.

Jared nodded and they both sipped from the cooling cups of coffees. When he looked up and saw an understanding smile on his momma’s face, he knew that tonight was going to be fine.

“So, this Jensen . . . he’s coming over tonight?” Sherri asked. “Is he anything like Christian?”

“No!” Jared stated loudly, before checking himself. “No, I mean, he’s . . . Jensen’s thoughtful and kind. He’s pretty quiet and he has these freckles . . .”

“Oh?” She replied, a knowing tone in her voice.

They spent the time until the rest of the household was up, with her asking questions and Jared answering them as best he could. Sometime during these quiet moments, Jared realized that there was a huge part about Jensen’s life that he didn’t know, like where his family was or why he never talked about them and what made him travel all over taking random jobs? He decided then that he needed to get Jensen alone to find out the answers to these questions. If not tonight, then as soon as possible, he thought. It seemed as if Jensen knew all his dark secrets and all he knew about Jensen was that he could play guitar and that his truck was his life.

 

***

 

The party was just gearing up as Steve and Jensen broke through the tree line and started across the wide lawn towards the house. The short fence surrounding the house had a few bright blue balloons affixed to it and a handwritten sign with the words ‘Happy Birthday, Noah’ stenciled on it in brilliant red. Jensen tried to make out what the brown blob was in the corner of the sign, a horse more than likely, but he would have to say it was a guess, if pressed about it.

Jim was pulling into the drive in his Dodge, with the rest of the guys from the farm and Beth in the truck bed, save Chris who had been at the Padalecki’s since Ellie brought him home from work. Beth waved at them while Chad flapped his hand loosely on his wrist from his wheelchair throne as if he were their king. Both he and Steve flipped him off with broad grins as they continued on across the wide lot of scrub grass.

The sheer volume of voices coming from the house had Jensen itching to turn right around and head back to the safety of his truck.

“Jensen! Steve!” Noah galloped unsteadily on his stick horse up to the fence. “It’s my birthday!”

“Leave it to Noah to be the first to spot us.” Jensen said as he lifted the hand not carrying a poorly wrapped gift to wave at the boy.

“No sneaking in and out for you, Ackles.” Steve laughed as he shoved Jensen lightly. He then lifted up his voice and called out happy birthday loud enough for Noah to hear him.

“Hey, guys, come on in. There’s beer or soda, if you would rather have that, in the cooler on the porch and I think the rest of the guys are around back, being all manly men and lighting the grills.” Ellie met them at the gate and latched it behind them. She waved a hand in the general direction that they should go. “Oh, and Noah doesn’t get to open his gifts until after we eat, so don’t believe otherwise.”

“G.G.!” Jensen laughed at the pouting lip that Noah sent his great-grandmother.

“Noah, go find your grandpa and ask him to show you how to make your horse there, whinny again.” She rolled her eyes at the little boy’s antics and turned to the newcomers next to her. “Aldis fell for those big browns and gave up his gift earlier. Silly man. Well, come on, let’s get you two set up.”

They rounded the corner of the house and soon were immersed in the throng of party revelers. An uneven tide of rainbow swirling bubbles floated overhead, bursting with a single drip falling onto the unsuspecting guest as they talked and laughed. Jensen looked around and finally spotted a group of kids running from the barn and back to the house, bubble wands in hands.

Aldis came up and thrust a cold sweating bottle of beer into each of their hands and then herded them over to where a trio of grills were set-up near a small blue paddling pool was heaped high with brightly wrapped gifts; so many that a few had tumbled over into the grass. Jensen reached for Steve’s and placed them among the others.

“Jensen, hey! Hi, Steve. Come meet everyone.” Jared called out.

Jensen noticed a curious look or two from the group surrounding the barbecues and dipped his head nervously.

“So I know you two know most of these guys from town, so just ignore them.” A chorus of ‘heys’ sounded out, but Jared ignored them. “But here. . . Dad, Jeff, this is Jensen Ackles and Steve Carlson, they came down from Wyoming to help out Jim after the storm. Jensen, Steve, this is my father, Gerald Padalecki, but you can call him Gerry, and my older brother, Jeff. Jeff and his wife Tracie live down in Austin and their kids Mason and Max are running around here somewhere.”

Jensen took his turn shaking both the elder Padalecki’s hands and from the appraising look he received from both of them, he was sure that they knew that he was more than one of Jim’s hired hands.

“Dad, where’s mom? I want her to meet Jen and Steve.” Jen quirked an eyebrow at the shortening of his name, something he usually didn’t care for, but in Jared mirthful baritone, it tickled something deep within his chest.

“I don’t know. Last time I saw her, she and Megan were blow-drying the piñatas. Mason!” Gerry snagged a red-faced boy of about six with a hand on his shoulder and stopped him from continuing with the chase the other kids were on. “Could you please go find grandma and tell her to come meet some of Uncle Jared’s new friends?”

With a shriek, the boy was off, gunning for the house. Jensen felt his cheeks burning at the thought that he was important enough to introduce around; he peeked up through his lashes at Jared and knew that he was helpless in the glare of Jared’s brilliant nearly mile wide smile.

“So, Jensen, right? Jared tells us that you made it down to Solace in record time.” Gerry’s voice was congenial, but it still made Jensen uneasy. “Didn’t break too many speeding laws, I hope.”

“Dad! Stop it.” Jared said, nudging Jensen as if to say that his dad was only teasing.

“Um, no, sir. Between the three of us . . . well, we just wanted to see if we could lend a hand.” Jensen cursed himself silently for being a stuttering oaf. He saw Jim walking up out of the corner of his eye and hoped that the older man could somehow save him from making an ass out himself. Well, making a bigger ass out of himself than he already had.

“Lend a hand, indeed. Hello, Gerry.” Jim shook Gerry’s hand and then twisted the top off his beer. “These boys have been a godsend, let me tell ya.”

“Hey, Jim. Good to see you again. If what momma says is true, she’ll back that statement there a hundred percent. She says that Christian has helped her out at the diner since his first day in town and that she practically has to beg him to take a day off.” Jensen cast an eye at Steve and saw that he was fighting back the same grin that Jensen, himself was.

“Not just Christian, Ger. Though El told me the same thing. Steve here has picked up the slack, what with Chad Lindberg being laid up and all and I know that he’s gone into town to help Brown at the garage. And Jensen, well, Jensen here has nearly single-handedly saved the orchard. Out every morning before dawn and working until sundown, trimmin’, mendin’, and practically beggin’ those trees to thrive.” 

Jensen suddenly found the dirt on his boots to be quite interesting. He felt a hand on his shoulder and by smell alone, knew that Jared was trying to lend him some strength.

“Yep, if I don’t have the best haul I ever had this year, I’ll eat my hat. But I pretty sure I won’t have to. Not this year.” Jim continued, his gruff voice playful as he kicked Jensen’s boot.

“Well, I suggest that we get this show on the road then. We don’t want Jim eating anything other than prime Texas beef.” Jensen felt adrift as Jared turned to the grill after his announcement, but he was pleased nonetheless at all the nice things Jim had said about him.

 

***

 

They ate and talked until it seemed that everyone but the kids were too full to even think. Noah was out in a circle of his birthday booty, getting the envious help of his cousins and friends as each toy was de-boxed and examined thoroughly.

Jensen carried a load of the scraped-clean serving dishes into the kitchen and was trying to find an empty counter to set them on when a voice from behind startled him.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. You don’t have to help clean up, we got it.”

He clutched at the stack as another set of hands shot out to help save the wobbling load.

Jensen smiled at the woman and mumbled the equivalent of ‘I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure you don’t, but you are a guest today. So go out and set a spell.”

Between them they found a spot where she off loaded the dishes as Jensen stood as still as he could.  
“I’m guessing that you’re Jensen, Jared’s friend.” Jensen looked up and nodded, unconsciously pulling his bottom lip in. “I thought so. I’m Sherri, Jared’s mom.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” 

“Oh, no, none of that ma’am stuff. Call me Sherri or mom or whatever, just not ma’am.” She laughed at his struck look. “I like to believe that I’m not old enough to be a ma’am.”

“O – okay, Sherri.” Jensen turned to the counter and began clearing the serving utensils from the various dishes and dropping them into the sink.

“Jensen. Really, you don’t have to help. Come on, sit and have a glass of tea with me.” He allowed himself to be guided to the table and pushed gently into a chair. “Of course, I’m not young enough anymore, that all these kids don’t wear me out from time to time. Does your momma have the same problem?”

Jensen stared at his hands and tried to figure out a way to word a response to Sherri’s question, but apparently he took too long as she slid a glass of tea in front of him and seated herself in the chair to his right.

“It’s okay. Jared told me that you were a bit on the shy side. As you probably know, just from being around him, we Padalecki’s don’t seem to have a shy bone in our bodies.” She reached out and patted his hand. “So Jensen, tell me how you like Solace. It is about the friendliest town in Texas, isn’t it.”

They sat there for nearly half an hour, with Sherri asking innocent questions and Jensen answering them as best he could. He was amazed, though he shouldn’t have been seeing how she was Jared’s mother, that Sherri was easy to talk with. In the length of time that it took for them to finish a glass of tea, she had found out when his birthday was, what he wanted to be growing up, and just how he had come to know Jim.

“Jensen. I’ve been looking for . . . Momma, you haven’t been holding him hostage have you?” Jared burst through the kitchen door. He leaned down and planted a wet kiss on his mother’s cheek to show that he was kidding. “Aldis and Chris finally got the piñatas strung up and the birthday boy is chomping at the bit to destroy them.”  
“Piñatas? As in more than one?” Jensen asked, as both Padalecki’s grinned and nodded. 

“You see, when Jeff was little, we always had a piñata for his birthday parties, but when Jared and then Megan came along and they were old enough to swing the stick, Jeff didn’t want to share. So Gerry and I made up the tradition that there would be two piñatas, one for the birthday boy or girl and one for everyone else, which has worked out pretty well seeing as we haven’t had any trips to the ER in quite some time.”

“You sent your brother to the emergency room?” Jensen goggled at Jared, his eye staring at him in disbelief.

“Why do you assume it was me and not Jeff smacking me over the head with the stick?” Jared crossed his arms over his chest and pouted at Jensen.

“I . . . I-“ Jensen started to apologize, but Sherri stood and wrapped an arm around her giant of a son.

“You were right, Jensen. It was Jeff that went to the ER, but my little JT here was innocent in the bloodshed. Weren’t you, baby?” She reached up to pat his cheek. “Anyway, it was Megan who carried out swift justice one year and Jeff has the scar along the back of head to prove it.”

Jensen was still laughing when Meg popped her head in the door to announce that they had gotten the third piñata hung. He turned to see matching smiles next to him. “Third?”

“Yep, three. One for Noah, one for the rest of the kids, and –“

“One for the big kids.” Sherri finished for her son. “So, come on you two, let’s go see if we can’t steal Jeff’s thunder again this year.” 

Sherri ushered them outside to where everyone else had nearly recovered from their food comas and were mingling again.

 

***

 

Jensen was leaning against the tall slat fence next to the barn when Jared walked over to where he stood. The sun had just dropped beyond the horizon, but the big Texas sky was still as blue as could be above them.

“He’s a lot more coordinated than I was at that age.” Jensen said as he watched Noah almost rope the dummy steer head affixed to the bale of hay in front of him. Of course, it was about his twentieth try, but whatever, he was four. Besides, he roped Chris on his third try and that had to count for something.

“Me, too. Course I was all elbows and knobby knees.”

“You? I don’t believe it.” Jensen mocked morphing his face into a shocked expression.

“Don’t tease. I was really sensitive about that when I was younger.” Jared replied, “I know it’s hard to believe that I was anything but the fine lookin’ specimen you see before you today, but it’s true.”

Jensen knocked his elbow into Jared’s causing the ‘fine lookin’ specimen’ to stumble bit over his crossed long legs.

“You may be a fine looking specimen, but you coordination is still for shit, Padalecki.”Jensen backed away laughing.

“Why, you . . .” Jared growled and made as if he was going to run after Jensen.

Jensen yelped and took off across the lawn, Jared’s long legs eating up the ground beneath him. Grabbing the edge of the now empty granary, Jensen flipped himself around the corner and flattened himself to the wooden slats. He could feel the dry peeling paint cutting into his shirt.

Jared barreled around the corner and went several paces forward before he realized that Jensen was nowhere in sight. Turning he caught a glimpse of a boot heel slipping in behind the edge of the sagging doorframe. He eased over to the wall and whirled around the corner only to find that Jensen wasn’t there.

“Got to be faster than that, Jay.” 

Jared looked behind him and then back around, it was finally the dust floating down from one of the four by four beams that spanned the width of the building, which finally clued him in to look up.

“Now, how in the hell did you get up there?” 

Jensen laughed as he took in the seriously confused look of the man below him. He swung his legs a bit, knocking some more dust and debris to the cement floor below.

“I’ve spent the last month climbing trees for a living. You don’t think that I have a few tricks up my sleeve? I’m wounded.” He mimed clutching his chest and rocked in place.

“Well, could you come down? You’re giving me a crick in my neck.” Jared bunched his fist on his hips and stared at the man above.

“How about you come up?”

“No can do. Been scared of heights ever since I was about Noah’s age. Jeff conned me into a climbing a ladder to get on top of the garage and then that ass took the ladder away.” Jared explained. “I was stuck up there for over an hour, crying and blubbering like a big sissy until one of the neighbors spotted me and went and got my folks.”

“Now’s as good a time as any to get over that fear.” Jensen commented. “I’ll hold your hand if you want me to.”

He watched as Jared contemplated his offer, then spread his arms wide, and told Jensen his counter-offer.

“How about you come on down here and you can have anything you want that’s in this building.”

The air which had been thick with the dry stagnate heat of the day became charged as both men continued to stare at one another, both pondering the offer that was on the table.

“Well, Jen? What is it going to be? You staying up there alone or are you going to come on down and play nicely with the others?”

“I like that, you know, you calling me Jen.” Jensen spoke sincerely. “I . . . I usually don’t like nicknames or pet names, but you saying ‘Jen’ seems right.” 

“I . . . I’m glad then, that you like it. I like Jensen as well, but it seems so formal and polite. Jen fits you, playful and short.” 

“Hey!” Jensen caught the little jab. “At least I don’t . . . I’m –“

“Why don’t you come down and we can discuss the fact that you can’t come up with a comeback.” Jared said.

“Maybe I don’t want to play nicely with the others.” Jensen mocked.

“All the better then, I’ll let you play dirty with me.” 

Jared held his breath as Jensen stood on the beam. The fool was going to break his head or his neck or something, he thought as he glanced around to see what he could come up with to break his fall, but the granary was empty save the built-in workbench near the door and the walls of the empty bins. He glanced up again to find Jensen standing tall above him.

“Jen.” 

Jensen caught the quaver in Jared’s voice and decided to stop messing with the poor man’s head. Stooping in place, he bracketed the beam in his hands and then slowly dropped one and then the other leg off the beam. Lowering himself slowly, he hung by his fingertips right in front of Jared.

“Catch me?” He asked, his voice deepening with desire.

“Always.” Jared whispered as he reached out and brushed Jensen’s calf with his hand. “Let go, Jen.”

Jensen released one of his hands and lowered it towards Jared, who stretched up to clasp at it. The impact of their bodies as Jensen uncurled his other hand caused them both to stumble, but they managed to stay upright in the end, each wrapped tightly in the other’s arms as they bumped heavily into one of the dusty bins.

“Jay. I-“

Jared cut off whatever Jensen was going to say by slamming his mouth hotly onto the plush one below him. His tongue, floated roughly, repeatedly, over the seam of Jensen’s lips until they opened willingly under the onslaught. He fisted a hand around the leather belt at Jensen’s waist, bunching the denim below it; his thumb caught a hint of skin, the heat of which seemed ungodly.

They shifted against one another, grinding and pushing at one another, seeking out any friction possible.

Jensen grasped a handful of soft brown hair and forced Jared’s head back, giving him access to the lean, long lines of the farmer’s throat. He bit at the cord of muscle that stood out causing Jared to gasp then he sucked and licked at the spot to sooth away the burn.

“I want you, Jen.” Jared panted in his ear after he dropped his head forward again to gain access to the sensitive skin behind Jensen’s ear. “I, Jesus, Jen. What you do to me . . .” 

Jared pivoted then and by using his hips, his feet, hell, every part of his body not already lost to the man in his arms, he guided them in an awkward, stuttering dance until Jensen’s ass bumped up against the workbench.

Not needing any more guidance, Jensen scooted back a bit and slotted Jared between his thighs. With one hand still snarled in Jared’s hair, he wormed his other under the back of Jared’s soft shirt and started caressing the sweat damp skin of the back beneath it. His finger’s played at the span of skin, dipping down to play within the recess below; all the while he was clutching tighter and tighter still, until their groins were pushed together just right.

Jared braced himself on the table with his left hand as his right fumbled and dug at the folds of denim between them. Every time he tried to pull back, to give his hand more leverage to work with, Jensen would pull him closer still. His mouth found the same spot it had earlier and by nipping and sucking, he was able to make the cowboy below him buck enough to get his fingers gripped tightly around the flap of Jensen’s jeans. Biting hard enough, Jensen sucked in a deep breath and Jared tugged quickly, which caused the button to give. The zipper pulled part way down as well.

“Fuck.” Jensen was finding it difficult to breathe, let alone think. “You. You too, Jay.”

The hand that he had had anchored at the back of Jared’s head now dropped and was battling with Jared’s belt, trying to get into the other man’s pants. He growled as the belt buckle bit the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, but he kept working at it as if a man dying of thirst would work for water.

“Help.” He cried, lips burning across the minute stubble of Jared’s chin. “Jay . . . you . . .”

Jared pushed Jensen’s hand out the way and set about undoing his own jeans. The buckle clattered against the wooden workbench as his pants dropped to the top of his thighs. Standing as upright as Jensen’s octopussing arms would allow, he gripped the loosened waist of Jensen’s jean and tugged them down enough to allow the shorter man’s erection to spring up against the cotton barrier of his boxers. He remembered how Jensen tasted the night of the dance. Fuck, but he wanted that again.

Jensen looked up into Jared’s desire reddened face. He watched as the man between his thighs licked his lips and started to kiss down his chest. No, his brain supplied when his lips wouldn’t form the words. Grabbing Jared by the shoulders, he hauled him up as best he could and his hand dove behind the elastic waistband of Jared’s boxers. 

His fingers slipped along the head of Jared’s cock, sliding in the buildup of pre-come. Twisting his wrist, he let his grip go lower until it was wrapped firmly around the other man’s shaft.

Jared whipped his head back, the touch driving his hips forward. He felt a dampness of cloth brush against his hipbone, following the sensation with his fingers; he encountered the wet cotton of Jensen’s underwear, a soft, hot to the touch patch of skin floating in and out of reach behind the fly, as Jensen humped up against him.

“Wait . . . Jen . . .” Jared licked down the length of Jensen’s neck, the flavors of salt, beer, and barbecue flooded his taste buds. Leaning back again, he tried to get Jensen’s attention, but as his eyes finally met with the glazed green ones below him, he saw that his partner was too far gone to reason with.

Taking the lead, Jared reached down and unfastened Jensen’s hand from his shaft. It took a few tries, batting Jensen’s wandering hands every time, before he was able to line up their cocks and wrap both in the palm of one of his hands. The friction was nearly too painful at first. Jared lifted his hand and he held it in front of Jensen, who dutifully spit into it; adding his own saliva, he reached down and took up where he left off.

They found a rhythm after a few moments of stops and starts, soon Jared’s hips were pistoning in time with the cowboy’s below him.

Jensen slipped a hand back around to Jared’s back. The other he braced against the wall behind his head. His sole intent was to pull Jared’s sweaty hard body as close to his own as possible, but as before, his fingers slipped down.

The exquisite feel of the tips of Jensen’s broad finger trying to gain access to his passage drove his hips forward until Jared was balanced precariously on the toes of his boots; the rest of his weight was pressing Jensen down into the table. He threw his other hand up for balance on the wall in front of him only to find Jensen’s already there. 

Jensen spread his fingers as wide as they would go and Jared’s dropped into the space between. He tried to focus on all the various points of contact that they had between them, from their hands and mouths to their chests and hips, but his mind couldn’t settle on where to concentrate. 

Jared felt the staccato heartbeat below him, jump and stop and then leap again. He knew that Jensen was close, so he put all his power into his grip, and soon he got his reward. He had never considered himself a lucky man before, but being able to watch the man below him fall apart in the hazy twilight, well, he felt richer than all the oil baron’s of Texas. The sweet long low moan that accompanied Jensen’s orgasm was music to his heart. He wanted to hear that same song for every one of his remaining days on this earth.

It had never been like that before, Jensen thought after his mind defogged and he was aware that Jared was still pounding away above him. A drop of sweat fell on his cheek and he chased it with his tongue, catching it just before it rolled down out of his reach.

He realized that he couldn’t set his hand against the wall free to help Jared reach his own satisfaction, so he did the next best thing. The sweat that had been rolling down Jared’s back into the crevasse of his ass had made rolling his finger easier and soon he was able to pop the tip of his finger through the tight ring of muscle into the moist heat inside. The building keening coming from Jared’s throat was amazing, it soon filled the wide empty room.

Jared’s body was at war with itself, torn between the soft torture of driving up hard and tight against the crisp gingery hair beneath Jensen’s navel and thrusting back against the intrusive finger that Jensen had wiggled inside of him. A few moments later the battle was over and with a few jerky pumps, he was coming as hard as he ever had before, maybe harder.

Jensen was covered in a mix of his own cooling semen and Jared’s still burning hot come. Pulling his finger from its place below earned him a wince and a small lingering kiss to the neck. He wrapped his free arm around the still shivering body of the man above him; trying to offer him strength that Jensen knew that he needed. He felt Jared’s grip lessen on his hand against the wall and he dropped that one to arc across Jared’s back the other direction.

“I . . . don’t know . . . I don’t’ know what to say.” Jensen whispered up to the ceiling. “I . . . you’re amazing . . . and beautiful and . . . Christ, what _you_ do to _me_ , Jay.”

Jared dropped his hand from the wall to rest on the table next to Jensen’s head. Jensen appeared tired, but a look of bliss still played across his features. Jared knew that he would always remember this night as the night that he got to touch heaven and live to not tell about it.

“I like it when you call me Jay.” The sweetest smile graced Jensen’s lip then.

“Yeah?” He reached up and traced a finger along one of Jared’s dimples.

“Yeah. It’s like I’m yours and nobody else’s.” Jared replied, “Nobody calls me Jay, most often it’s Jared, my friends from school and my family call me JT and . . . well, Drew called me Jare. So, you know, I like Jay.”

Jared watched as Jensen blinked slowly below him. When those green eyes were staring up at his again, the smile had gone out of them. He probably shouldn’t have mentioned Drew, but he would explain it if necessary. Jared knew that Drew was gone and not coming back, he was just stating a fact.

“I . . . I like Jay, too. He’s a pretty great guy.” Jensen poked him in the chin. “He’s also a pretty heavy guy, let me up.”

“Oh, shit, sorry. Lost in the moment, you know.” Jared scrambled back and would have fallen with his pants around his knees if it hadn’t been for Jensen catching his bicep before he could do so. “Thanks.”

“I don’t know, kinda feels like I should be thanking you.” Jensen replied.

Jared knew that if the light wasn’t so poor he would be seeing a blush trying to shade over Jensen’s freckles. He pulled up his jeans and pulled the zip tab to make them stay on.

“That goes for me, too. I don’t remember ever coming that hard before. And we didn’t even . . . well, you know.” Jared waved his hand between them. “Though next time, I’m hoping for a bed or at least someplace horizontal . . . and clean.”

Jensen laughed as he watched Jared swipe at the dust and grime on his pants.

“You? I’m the one sitting in years worth of dirt.” He grabbed the hand that Jared offered and tried to jump rather than scoot off the table. Jared started to swipe a hand across Jensen’s ass to help dislodge some of the dust, but Jensen stopped him. “I’ll clean, don’t worry. Don’t know if I have a spanking kink, but I don’t think now is the time to find out.”

Jared barked out a laugh. He pulled Jensen’s tee shirt down as the Jensen worked on refastening his jeans. He did reach up and brush the more obvious dirt from Jensen’s shoulder’s and back.

“Oh, and next time, Jay?”

“Next time?” Jared answered right back.

“Next time, I’m hoping for some supplies of some kind. So, do you suppose that anyone heard us?” Jensen laughed at the shocked look he could make out on the farmer’s face. 

“Shit.”

“Don’t’ worry. Chris saw us head this way and since he’s convinced that we’re ‘foolin’ around’, which apparently by his definition, we are, then he would be smart enough to keep the young ones away.” Jared grabbed Jensen’s hands as he air quoted and pulled them around his back until Jensen’s chest bumped into his. “Now the adults hearing anything, then that’s thei –“ 

“I like foolin’ around with you, Jen.”

“I’ve had worse times . . .” Jensen started to speak.

“Hey!” Jensen laughed as Jared pouted.

“Like I was saying, you baby. I’ve had worse times, but I can’t think of any better times.” He leaned up and sucked Jared’s bottom lip in between his own. After a long minute, he drew back. “I think you use that pout for nefarious purposes.

“And what nefarious purposes would those be, Jen?” Jared pecked his nose and then his cheek. 

 

“Well, like getting your own way and . . .”

“Did it work, do you suppose? Me pouting got you to kiss me didn’t it? So what, I can now list pouting as one of my superpowers, right?” He pushed his lip out as far as it would go.

Jensen leaned in again and bit the lip, earning him a yelp and a slap on the ass.

“Seems, I found your kryptonite, Superman,” He joked as his hand ghosted over Jared’s ass, mimicking the path it had earlier, “or is it something else, you suppose.”

“Stop! Don’t you dare get me worked up before we have to go back in and be with my parents.” Jared stepped away, but one of his hands trailed down to catch one of Jensen’s.

They walked a few steps to the door and looked out into the yard grown hazy in the setting dusk.

“I don’t think that I should go in there like this.” Jensen said causing Jared to cast a worried glance his way.

“But . . .”

“Exactly. Butt, as in my butt is currently marinating in hundred-year-old corn dust or some other noxious substance. You can go take a shower, but I would be sitting in it until I got home.”

“Eww, yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Jared agreed reluctantly. “But I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” 

“You’ve got church and your folks and your bother. Don’t you think that you should hang out with them?” Jensen asked.

In reality, he would love nothing better than to be with Jared tomorrow, but the thought of imposing on his family time, well, that left him cold inside. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the Padalecki’s they were a great group of people, each one as sharp and kind as Jared. But when he thought of how wonderful Jared’s family was and the fact that his own couldn’t care less where he was . . . no, he would spend the day in the trees, digging through his memories of tonight.

“You can come along. They won’t mind at all. Hell, Chris has gone to church with us every weekend. Of course, he needs it more than you, especially if he thinks that he’s going to win over my sister . . . never mind, just come along.” Jared plead, pulling on Jensen’s arm.

“I better not. I need to get some more work done in the orchard and you need to explain your filthy clothes to your momma. But how about Monday at breakfast? We will both get our chores done and then make a plan for the rest of the day. Sound okay to you?” The look of dejection on Jared’s face was nearly killing him, but he really didn’t feel strong enough for two family days in a row.

Jared stared at the house with nearly every light on inside. He really wanted to have Jensen over tomorrow, but maybe today with his family had been too much.

“Fine, but you’re buying, Ackles.” He stated gruffly. 

“I suppose, but don’t forget, I know the owner, and she thinks I’m the best.” Jensen grinned up at Jared.

“Yeah? Well, I know the cook and he thinks that I’m foolin’ around with his best friend.” Jared retorted.

“Dammit.” Jensen grumped, but his scowl was whisked away by a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you Monday, Jay.”

“You had better, Jen. Or else I’ll send Noah and his lasso after you.” 

Jared reluctantly let go of the older man’s hand and started for the house. He stopped next to the pecan wood roping dummy that Jensen had hand carved for Noah and looked up to see Jensen loping across the grass for the trees. His tall form was made up of shades of blue and grey in the moonlight. He waved back when Jensen turned at the tree line and lifted a solitary hand. Reaching down he pulled the dummy, bale and all, into the barn. No use for it to get wet in the morning dew.

**Monday, 2nd of May, 2005**

The plastic carrier bag bounced off his thigh when Jensen walked out of the drug store; the early morning sun nearly blinded him. After thinking about Saturday night the entire day yesterday, he decided that he was going to become the boy scout he never was and be prepared.

Turns out, buying condoms and lube at the only drug store in town turned out to be more embarrassing than he thought, so the bag also held a deck of card, toothpaste, shampoo, band-aids (he actually needed those), breath mints and a small pocket notebook. Jensen hoped that Jared appreciated his gesture, but then again, the big goof would probably proudly walk up and slam the lube on the counter and ask if they had any that was flavored.

Jensen was grinning to himself at the image of Jared doing just that when he bumped into somebody on the sidewalk.

“Oh. Sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.” He shot a hand out to the elbow of the person he bumped and was shocked to see Nurse Katie teetering in front of him. “I’m . . . sorry, I was thinking of something else and I didn’t see you.”

“I’m okay. I . . . I’m okay. You’re Jensen Ackles, right? You’re staying out to the Beaver farm?” She seemed to be just as uncomfortable as he was.

“Yeah, um, yes, I’m Jensen. Can I help you with something?” He twisted the straps of the bag up around his wrist.

“No, well yes, actually. Can you wait here for a minute? Please?” She waited long enough for Jensen to nod and then hurried down to a dark blue SUV parked at the curb a few car lengths away. 

He watched as she leaned into the truck to talk to the driver. Jensen would have craned his head to see if he knew the person, but he didn’t want to seem nosy. He looked over his shoulder and down the road to where the diner was. Jared’s truck wasn’t there yet, but Jensen knew that his parents weren’t leaving until this morning, so they must just be running behind. The slamming of a car door drew his head around to where Nurse Katie was standing next to a tall man with light brown hair.

Jensen’s breath stuttered to a stop as sense of déjà vu washed over him. The setting, the timing, the circumstance were different, but the same three words floated through his mind.

Time to go.


	9. Chapter 9

**17th of May, 2005**

The skin across the back of his neck felt as if it were boiling in his own sweat. Pulling a bandana from his hip pocket, Jensen leaned of the side of the idling red and gray Farmall tractor and poured a bit of the icy water from his still partially frozen water bottle onto it. Squeezing the uncapped bottle carefully between his knees, he placed the dripping cloth around his neck, flinching at the drastic change in temperature.

Shooing a bug away on his arm, he took a sip of the water and checked his watch. 12:47 pm. Taking a second sip, Jensen carefully capped the bottle and slid it back into the small cooler he kept wedged under his seat. Kicking the cooler back into position, Jensen adjusted the throttle and the tractor gave a jerky shiver before starting to roll along the precise rows of turned earth. This field had been alfalfa last year, but Roger had decided to give it a year of rest and was having Jensen turn the earth for now.

He completed two more passes before he saw the little all-terrain Gator come rolling up along the gravel access road between the fields. He waved to the driver to let him know that he had seen him and then finished the row that he was working on before bringing the growling engine to a stop. His ears ringing in the silence.

“Hey, Jensen. From the feel of it Mrs. Bellman sent out a feast.” Devon, a local high school boy that Roger had hired to be a runner this summer, hefted the bag to illustrate his point and reached into the back to swivel the large water cooler spigot out over the tailgate.

“Good. Breakfast was so long ago, I thought that I was going to have to sneak out and take down one of the cows to sustain myself until supper.” Jensen joked as he climbed down from his seat. 

He reached back for the cooler so that he could fill his water bottles and on shaky legs still vibrating from the tractor’s rough ride, he walked over to the ATV.

“I thought you were coming out earlier.” Jensen stated casting a sly eye at the young man unpacking their lunch.

“I . . . well, you know, Gracie and I got to talking.” Devon flushed below his golden tan, setting the bag down on the packed dirt next to the Gator. In a flurry of sharp elbows and rubber-banded knees, he took a spot next to it.

“Ahh . . . I thought that she was taking the kids to the pool in town today.” Jensen bent over the lunch bag, grabbing a baggy with carrot sticks and nipped a few out. 

Gracie was the eldest Bellman daughter, a raven-haired beauty of sixteen. Last year when Jensen was here she joked around with him and tried to enlist him in pranking her two younger sisters, but this year, well this year she was sixteen going on twenty-five; all aloof and practically formal.

“She still is, just I . . .” Jensen almost laughed out loud as he watched the teen jam a ham and cheese sandwich into his mouth to save himself from having to finish his sentence; as it was Jensen chuckled lightly at him as he took the last bit of precious shade the Gator provided and unwrapped his own sandwich.

They ate in relative silence, a few comments here and there about the food or the work they should finish before they could stop for the day.

Rewetting the bandana, Jensen swept his cap from his head and merely laid the dripping cloth in its place. He closed his eyes to the glaring sunlight and let his skin absorb the water. A sprinkling of goose pimples followed a particularly chilly stream of water down his chest, but Jensen merely let it run its course. 

It was in the mid-nineties for the eleventh day in a row and while the weather guy from channel seven was calling for a chance of rain tonight, not one person on the farm was holding their breathes in the belief that it would happen. Not that anyone would throw a tantrum if it did dump buckets on the sun hardened earth that night.

“Hey, Jensen?” 

“Hmm . . .” He lolled his head towards the boy and cracked open an eye.

“I . . . can I ask you something?” Jensen noted that Devon was taking a keen interest in the dirt caked beneath his own fingernails. 

“Shoot.”

“I would talk to Roger or Mrs. Bellman, but . . . and I did ask Old Man Dan. He told me that I was too young . . . and –“

“Dev?” Jensen interrupted fearing the kid’s tale was going to take until sundown to get out if he didn’t.

“Yeah?”

“Spit it out, okay?” Jensen twitched his lips into a half-assed grin, so that Devon wouldn’t start stammering again.

“I . . . How do you know when you’re in love?”

“Love? I’m guessing you mean Gracie, right?” The other side of his lips quirked up making his grin a full-fledged smile.”That’s why you don’t feel like you can talk to Roger or Gina, isn’t it?”

“Um . . . yeah.” 

Jensen felt for the boy. He did. He remembered being fifteen and asking Josh about a girl at school that had kissed him at the homecoming dance and worrying that it meant that she loved him or something. Josh had laughed and by the end of the week, all of Josh’s friends were humming the wedding march at him when they traipsed through the house after basketball practice.

Then there was his time spent with Jeff when the older man would throw the word out as if it meant nothing until it finally did, just not to Jeff. It would be several years later before Jensen even used the word again and then it was only to talk about it in the past tense.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, Jensen, that’s okay. I can probably figure it out.” Devon’s voice was flat as he crinkled the now empty bag of chips up and shoved it back into the paper bag at his hip. “It’s just that . . . well, Old Man Dan said that you had the stain of love lost on you and that you were the best man to explain it to me.”

That got Jensen’s attention. Old Man Dan was Roger’s uncle, soured with age and too much time in the bottle; yet he was as sharp as ever when it came to getting to the root of an issue. The old ass, Jensen thought.

“I like Grace a lot and, well, I’m pretty sure she likes me . . . she’s going to the dance in town with me on Friday.” The hopefulness in his voice nearly made him sound like a boy asking for a pony.

“I know she does, Devon. However, love is . . . love is serious, man. Not just a night at the dance.”

“I know.”

“I know you do. Just be careful, okay. Love is an equal thing. Where you both have to listen and be there for each other. It is understanding what the other needs, without having to have them ask for it. Love is beautiful, and I’m not just talking about sex or physical beauty or something like that, okay?” Jensen paused and waited until he saw Devon nod his head, face earnest, and intent. “It’s about not being afraid to make a fool out of yourself or to back down even if you think you’re right.”

“Is that what you did?”

“Is what what I did?” Jensen furrowed his brow at the question.

“Did you back down? You know the stain thingy that Dan was talking about.”

Jensen pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes shut tight with red dots playing tag across the inside of his eyelids. No, he wanted to say, to scream, to yell. No, I’m the fool that didn’t even give love a chance to take shape in the first place. He sighed and looked back at the sun-reddened teen.

“Look, first of all, that old man was talking out his rear, you got that? And secondly, I did not back down.”

“I didn’t think so. You seem pretty tough, like you can take on the meanest bull in the pasture.” Jensen nearly sighed at the prideful tone the kid’s voice had taken.

“Devon, you’re what seventeen? You got a lot of life to live yet, so don’t be afraid to just do that, okay? I know that you and Gracie are interested in each other and that right now that seems to be the biggest part of your day and night, but don’t let it consume you.” Jensen felt lost for a moment, the regret for even opening his mouth and telling the kid to spill his guts.

“I’m not. I just want to be prepared. What if she . . .”

“She likes you, Dev. Just go with that. Dance, have fun, laugh, and enjoy being with each other. No pressure. No expectations. And remember . . . no means no and always, always, always, be a gentleman.”

“I . . .okay Jensen.”

“Trust me. You will know when the time to love comes. It will just feel right. In here and here.” Jensen pointed to his chest and his head. “So, should we both get back to work before Roger comes looking for us?” 

He stood and offered a hand down to the long, thin teen. For a second an image of what Jared must have looked like as a teen flashed through his mind. He swallowed against the rising knot of emotion in his throat.

“Thanks, Jensen. I . . . I don’t think . . . I’m glad that Old Man Dan sent me to you.” 

“Eh, sure. I don’t know if I helped much. Just don’t rush it and it’ll happen, I promise.” 

Jensen walked back to the tractor, tucked his replenished cooler back under the seat. He climbed up and settled in, cranking the engine as he did. Jensen scowled at his floundering with the boy’s question as he started back up a new row, feeling all the while like the biggest fraud in the entire state. What did he know about love, except how to walk away from it?

 

**20th of May, 2005**

Jensen had finished cultivating a couple more fields in the past few days and was now on the task of checking the gates on the irrigation pipes. It was a filthy job, but when the ice-cold well water gushed around his hands and the suction from the mud held his rubber over-boots solid in its grip, he felt almost like a boy again.

He had stopped for a quick lunch that Gina had handed him this morning and had got back to it. If he could get the last two fields finished up tonight, he wouldn’t feel bad asking Roger if he could borrow a horse and head down to the river for the day tomorrow. It was just one of many things he missed about his time in Solace and with Jared, the way that the days had been planned around work and play.

Cupping his hand, he caught some of the water and splashed it onto his face. If Gina was there, she would be reminding him to reapply his sunscreen or else his skin was going to be nothing but leather and freckles, he grinned at the thought of her sweet but persistent voice. He cupped the water again and lifted the dripping hand to his lips to sip. 

Satisfied that all was well with this line, he started back to the ATV and climbed in. Two more to go.

 

***

 

He turned the Gator towards home and a few minutes later he could see the broad two story farm house seemingly raise up before his eyes. It was a pretty house, what with tall gables and a wrap-around porch. The dark outbuildings and barn stood in contrast to the bright white exterior of the hundred year-old wooden home beneath the tall cottonwood and elm trees. 

Following a curve in the drive, Jensen headed to the second garage, a tall brown metal-walled structure, where the farm machinery was kept and various odds and ends of tools could be found. The engine echoed as he rolled up on the cement slab and angled the ATV out of the way of the bigger tractor that Roger still had to bring in this afternoon.

Grabbing his cooler, Jensen slipped from his seat and returned the keys to the hook by the door. He was humming a bit as he strode out of the garage into the late afternoon sun; it had been a good day. He had gotten all his chores and projects done, ahead of schedule since Devon was working on the back forty with Roger, and now it seemed he had enough time to get in a shower before supper.

Walking around to the side of the main garage and the steps that led to his room above it, Jensen glanced at the house to see if any of the kids were splashing in the clean water tank in the side yard that they used as a swimming pool. What he saw instead stopped him cold.

There parked up next to the kitchen entrance was a green truck and not just any green truck, but the green Ford that he had left at Jim’s down in Solace. The world around Jensen became like a vacuum, leaving him gasping shallowly for air in the humid late afternoon sunshine.

It looks as good as new, he thought wildly, _if one looked beyond the rust and dings_. The windows reflected the sun back at him as he slowly walked around the truck when he finally got his boots moving again. He peeked in the back and saw that his bed, minus the sleeping bag and quilt he brought with him, was there as was everything else he left behind. 

The kitchen door clicked open behind him. Expecting Chris or Steve to jump down the steps at him, Jensen found that the image of Gina Bellman, one hand holding a glass of herbal sun tea, while the other rubbed soothingly at her ever-growing midsection. The baby had been a surprise, but not an unwelcome one

“Wha . . . I, whe . . . who?” Luckily for Jensen, Gina, experienced with the half finished sentences of young children, understood what he was trying to say. With a kind smile, she bobbed her head to indicate the other side of the house and then she opened the door again.

“Oh, and Jensen?”

He blinked up at her. “Yeah?”

“We’re going to miss you.” She stepped back into the darker recesses of the cool house and the metal door snicked shut again. 

Jensen set his cooler down next to the step and slowly started walking towards what most people would call the front of the house, but its lack of easy access to the driveway often had it being the least used space on the property. He could feel his nerves start to tense and a butterfly or two had somehow set up residence in his gut as he rounded the corner, but a quick look around showed him a wide space with no one in sight. 

Glancing from the barren porch save the wicker patios furniture, he pivoted and looked out to the wooden yard chairs that Gracie usually commandeered for sunning, but both were empty.

“I see now, why you picked the trees.” 

Jensen whirled to look at the tire swing that swayed on its rope in the non-existent breeze but it was as empty as the chairs. Wait a minute . . . Jensen watched as the swing arced out again on its tether; his eyes followed the rope up to the broad branch of the elm tree that it was suspended from and there! A boot kicked the rope again.

“So . . .” Jensen asked, “Why did I pick the trees?”

“Perspective.” Came the reply from the leaves above. “You can see everything from a distance and still find safety in the many branches. So I guess that’s actually perspective and protection.”

“Jared?”

“Yes, Jensen?”

“Why are you in the tree?” Looking up, Jensen walked slowly around the wide trunk until Jared’s suntanned face, dimples bracketing a wide smile, hazel eyes sparkling, came into view.

“Why, Jensen, don’t you come up here and find out?”

Shaking his head at the absurdity of it all, Jensen glanced down at his boots and sighed. A few leaves, pulled too early from their places above, rained down around him. He sucked in a breath, turned towards the trunk, and grasped at the lowest fork in the tree.

The bark bit at his hands and a twig attempted to put out an eye, but in a matter of moments, he was seated, his back to the trunk, while his legs wrapped securely around a sturdy branch as if it were a horse; he was just below Jared’s own perch.

“Hi.” Jared spoke first, his voice soft as if not to spook Jensen into doing something stupid, such as falling from the tree.

“Hi.” Jensen replied, staring into the face of the man he knew now that he loved.

“So . . . Nebraska’s nice. Humid in places, but a right friendly place.”

“Yeah, it is.” Jensen agreed. “Jared? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I figured out a few things and since . . . and well, you needed your truck to come home, so I thought that I would bring it to you.” 

“Come home?” Jensen repeated the line. It didn’t seem as foreign as it once did.

“Sure. To Solace, of course. We got the rodeo coming up real soon and then the harvest and then the pecan harvest . . . Oh, and Sam and Sheriff Hutton are getting married, so there’s the wedding and reception and all. Nobody even knew that they were dating, let alone serious enough – “

“Jared?” something inside told Jensen to cut him off now or he would just keep listing reasons, no matter how small or insignificant, for Jensen to come back to Texas.

“What?” 

“Why are you here?” He should not have asked it like that, leading and making him seem insecure, but whatever.

“Well . . .” Jared looked first at Jensen and then out between the shaking branches to the short waving leaves of the newly sprouted corn. “I . . . miss you, Jen. We all miss you. But, I think I did most of all. Even more than Jim or Chris. I miss that you aren’t there at breakfast anymore, listening to Sterling rattling on about this and that. I miss that I couldn’t look up at random times of the day and see you disappearing into a tree out in the orchard. I miss you and me taking Noah fishing or to town. I miss seeing your eyes crinkle when you laugh or seeing them flash bright green when Kane pushes you too far. I miss you, Jen and when I finally figured out why . . . well, you were already gone.”

Jensen grasped the branch above him tighter, whether it was to anchor himself in his breathlessness or to prevent him from throwing himself bodily at the suddenly serious cowboy above him, he wasn’t sure.

“I . . . I missed you, too.” He felt as though he had been gargling rocks, what with how raspy and broken his voice sounded. “But you came all the way up to Hopewell?”

He watched as Jared nodded emphatically, eyes wide with sincerity.

“I like that name, Jen. Hopewell. Sounds so . . . so hopeful, I guess.” He started to edge down his branch, denim rubbing loudly on the bark of the tree. “You see. When you realize that the man you are falling in love with has up and run, you can do any number of things.”

“Yeah?” Jensen pushed his spine back as hard against the trunk as he could.

“Yeah. You can cut your losses and tell yourself to wait for the next one. Other fish in the sea and all of that crap.” He inched closer. “Or you can wallow around in misery, pouting to anyone that would listen, about the one that got away.” 

Jensen’s felt his lips quirking up to match Jared’s grin.

“Ellie got sick of you did she?”

“Her and just about everyone else.” Jared’s blush reddened his cheeks, leading Jensen to believe that what he was saying was true. “But you know what else you can do, Jensen?”

“What?” Jensen whispered into the stillness of their lofty perch among the bright green leaves.

“Why you can chase after that man and tell him that you missed him and tell him that you are falling in love with him . . . and maybe fall out of a tree and beg for him to come home with you. That’s what you can do.” Jared swayed perilously on his branch and lifted both arms away from the branch above that he had been using for support. “Do I need to fall out of this tree for you, Jen. Will that prove to you that I am serious? You would come see me in the hospital, wouldn’t you?”

Jensen felt his breath catch in his throat as Jared’s eyes searched his face for an answer. He felt as unbalanced as the other man looked right now. For a few long seconds they just stared at one another, until finally Jensen found his voice.

“No.” Jensen’s eyes widened as the tall body in front of him shook and swayed, as the word seemed to catch him straight in the chest.

“What?!?” Jared cried, rocking precariously in his shock.

“No!” Jensen’s hand shot out and knotted itself in Jared’s shirtsleeve. “Not no, I won’t come back to Solace. To you. I mean . . . I . . . no, you don’t have to throw yourself from this tree.”

Jared’s body slumped as he quickly reached up and anchored one of his massive hands to the upper branch again. His other arm shook until Jensen’s grasp came loose and then free of the death grip it held his shirt in; he caught up Jensen’s hand, lifted it to his lips, and pressed the softest of kisses to his palm.

“I . . . you know . . . I wouldn’t have done it, Jen. I would have wanted to . . . but –“

“I know. And if you had, then I would have followed you down.” Jensen stopped him, twisting his hand around, grasping Jared at the wrist and pulling gently. Jared edged the rest of the way down his branch until he was a few scant feet away. “I . . . lo . . . I missed you, Jared. So much that it hurt.”

“I missed you, too.” Jared’s usually booming voice was like the softest whisper against Jensen’s neck as the larger man leaned in to give Jensen an awkward one-armed embrace. “And I know that it’s too soon and that we still have a lot to say, but, Jensen?”

Jensen nodded his head, the stubble of Jared’s cheek rough against his own. His voice felt too used up and raw to speak.

“I’m pretty sure that I’m falling in love with you.”

“Me, too, Jared. Me, too.”

 

***

 

Supper that night was a boisterous affair. Sophie and Olivia, the two youngest Bellman girls were torn between staring in awe at the handsome Texan that was sitting at their table and trying to see who could tell the best tale to amuse the man. Jensen grinned at Jared’s obvious discomfort at the adoration from the two imps. Gina had made every effort to impress and the meal of oven-roasted pot roast with potatoes, carrots, and onions along with a fresh salad and home canned peaches baked into the sweetest cobbler for dessert rivaled any Sunday dinner that Jensen had ever eaten with the family. 

Devon sat across from Jensen, sullen at the subtle flirting that Grace was trying to accomplish with the newcomer. It wasn’t until Jensen stretched out a leg, bumping his boot into the boy’s and mouthed the words ‘he’s not interested’ that the boy lightened up and joined into a conversation with Roger about the prospects the Huskers had going after spring training.

Jensen felt Jared’s hands reach over and brush against his thigh while he was taking a sip of sun tea. He flushed and looked around the table, but it seemed that Gina was the only one to notice and she merely gave him a knowing look and a smile.

 

***

 

“Finally!” Jared exclaimed as Jensen shut the door behind them to the little one-room apartment he lived in over the garage.

“Wha –“ his words were swallowed up as Jared’s wind-chapped lips descended on his own. 

Using his body as a weapon, Jensen pushed and pulled until Jared’s back was to the wall with Jensen’s hands full of shaggy dark hair. It was painfully obvious to both of them that the six weeks apart had done nothing to stem the attraction that they had for each other. It was several minutes later before Jensen released Jared and left him panting against the wall as he strode to the other side of the small space.

“Jen?”

“I . . . we need . . . I could spend all night doing that –“ 

“That sounds good to me.” Jared replied flippantly.

“No, I mean yes, but we . . . I need to talk and you need to listen first, okay?” Jensen looked down at his hands, knuckles whitening in their grip on the back of the old wooden kitchen chair that he was hiding behind.

“Jensen?” Jared asked as he took a tentative step away from the wall; his hand coming partly up as if he was offering to hold hands. Jensen’s chest burned, not from lack of oxygen earlier, but from the lost look that was now gracing Jared’s sharp features.

“I . . . you didn’t even ask why I left? Aren’t you curious?”

“I – I guess. I asked Chris when we realized that you had gone, Lindy told him that he had dropped you at the bus terminal in Dallas and Chris said that you had promised to come up here for work. Granted he said that it seemed that you left a lot sooner than expected, but . . .” Jared seemed honestly perplexed by the questions. “I don’t know, Jensen. Did – was it something I did? I thought that it was going fine and earlier you said that you missed me. And you do want to come back, right? Or –“

“No. I do – want to come back, more than anything and I did miss you, hell, I missed everyone, but . . . I especially missed you.” Jensen reassured the other man. He ran a hand through his hair and gestured for Jared to take a seat on the sagging green sofa under the front window. “I guess that I just want to tell the truth for once. You’ve shared so much with me and I’ve never been able to tell you the truth.”

“Weren’t you before?” Jared asked as he settled his long frame carefully on the old sofa; he gripped the armrest as his weight caused the frame to shimmy on the spindly wooden legs.

“Well, yeah. I have never lied to you, Jay. And I . . .” Jensen sighed as the weight of his confession dug into his muscles. He flipped the kitchen chair on one of its legs and straddled it, his arms crossing over the ripped vinyl back. “You remember that I told you that I was born in Texas and that we moved to Chicago when I was young?”

“Ye-a-h . . . Richardson, right?” Jared answered slowly and softly, not wanting to interrupt even though it was his turn to speak.

“That’s right. Richardson. I – we moved when I was eleven and never went back. Even my grandparents came up to see us and we never went to their place near Austin. Hell, I don’t even know if they’re still alive.” Jensen let out a nervous laugh. “I suppose that I should have looked them up when I was down there . . . but that’s not. Never mind, that’s beside the point. Anyway, I hated it in Chicago. Too hot in the summers and too fucking cold in the winter; it always seemed to smell like fish because of the lake.”

“Like you I have an older brother and a younger sister, Josh and Mackenzie. Josh fit in really well there. He’s smart and funny, really outgoing with people, so before you say it, nothing like me.” Jensen paused and looked at Jared, who merely nodded his understanding. He pushed out a breath and smiled wryly back at him. “And Mackenzie, well, looking back on it now, she really didn’t know any better. She wasn’t even five when we moved. So it was just me that didn’t seem to fit in; too quiet, too serious, to weird what with my Texas accent and my bowlegs.”

“But you don’t have an accent?” Jared replied quietly.

“Yeah, I know. You would not believe how hard that was to drop. My father put me in speech classes and everything.” Jensen laughed bitterly.

“Oh.”

“So, yeah, school was tough. We were sent, Josh and I, to an all-boys prep academy that was part of the same university system that my father worked for. Can you imagine having to figure out that you were gay at an all-boys school, especially a religious one? Not fun, let me tell you.”

Jensen stood and paced a few times, making the dust motes swirl in the last few rays from the setting sun. He stopped at the end table next to the couch and pulled the cord to switch it on. Crossing to the mini-fridge, he pulled out first one and at Jared’s nod, a second beer, and wandered back to his chair.

“Anyway, I keep getting off track.”

“It’s okay.” Jared assured him quietly.

“Yeah, I just . . . it’s been so long since I talked about any of this, you know? Probably since I told Chris and Steve, let’s see, three or four years ago now. So, yeah . . . I told you that I never partied or anything and that I studied a lot, which is true and by the time I was in my second year of college, I felt that I had grown up enough to set my parents down and tell them about me being gay. Of course, that never happened.” Jensen bit his lip at the memory.

“I had it all planned out, Josh was down in Texas at grad school and Mac was away on some school trip or something, so it was just my parents and I at home that weekend. I was helping my momma set the table and my dad comes in angrier than I had ever seen him. Apparently, one of his favorite students had been kicked out of school for having sex in the school chapel. I didn’t know it until that moment, but my father really didn’t like homosexuals. Something to do with stereotypes and his department. He taught in the theater department. See, his student got caught giving head to someone of the same sex. By the time my mother calmed him down enough to eat; I knew that I could never tell him.”

“The following semester, I moved into the dorms on campus. Sure, my father still worked there and we lived around three miles from campus, but I got my mom to help me convince him that I needed to become more social at school, something that he would believe, you know. I even went out for the lacrosse team. Tried to fit in a little better, or at least that’s what he thought. In all honesty . . . he scared me. I didn’t want to face him when he found out that his own son was gay and this way, I could prolong it until I graduated.” Jensen stopped and took a long sip of his beer.

 

***

 

_Jensen Ackles. Would you please stand?”_

_Jensen had never felt as humiliated or as isolated as he did at this very moment. Rising from his seat, he walked to the podium where he had seen the fates of several of his teammates play out. Academic probation, academic suspension, Expulsion - three terms that he had become increasingly familiar with over the past few days spent in the Saint Sebastian Student Government chambers. He knew that the look in Lindsey’s eyes as he was placed under arrest would haunt Jensen for the rest of his life._

_Grasping the edge of the podium hard enough to pinch the skin of his palms, Jensen swallowed back the bile in his throat as he watched the student body president confer with the Dean of Students. He wanted to turn his head and look to his mom for support, but she had left the room in tears during his testimony of what he was doing the night of the party. As it was, he could see his father; arms crossed, posture rigid, off to the side._

_There’s no support to be had there, he thought knowingly. He could feel the burn of tears in the corner of his eyes, as he stared at the little foam knob on the microphone in front of him._

_“Jensen Ross Ackles. It has been determined through the testimony of your fellow teammates and the testimony of others’ that were present on the night of the tenth of December, 1999, at 1673 Hillcrest Drive, that you were in fact not present. You are hereby cleared of the charges of rape and sexual misconduct, underage consumption, and the use of illicit drugs to commit a felonious act. The charges will dropped from your name and your name will be cleared from the court documents pertaining to this case.”_

_There were murmurs behind him, Jensen couldn’t make out what was being said or even if the tone was positive or negative for the statement that the student body president had just made. He cast a quick glance over to where his dad sat, but the cold fury that he had seen form during the telling of his side of the story stayed firmly etched into the man’s skin._

_“On the matter of perjury and the misleading of the investigation of this case at hand. Jensen Ross Ackles, you are to receive a sentence of one semester and no less than, of academic suspension. At the completion of this allotted time, you are welcome to re-petition to enroll at Saint Sebastian University and continue on with your studies. Do you understand the terms or do you have any questions, Mr. Ackles?”_

_“No, sir.” Jensen doubted that anyone would have heard him if it weren’t for the microphone._

_“Mr. Ackles, we are saddened that it has come to this and while we are pleased that you did not have a hand in the drugging and subsequent sexual assault and rape of your fellow classmates,” There was a tone of condemnation that was nearly palpable in the large auditorium. “We find it difficult to believe that a student of your caliber and strong academic standing would lower yourself to fabricating an alibi that would not only tarnish the good name of a morally upstanding professor but also the stellar name of this institution. We, as a governing body, recommend that you use the next few months to ponder on this and may we see you in the fall as a changed man. That is all, Mr. Ackles, you may leave the proceedings.”_

_Jensen backed away from the podium and bowed his head to hide the burning in his cheeks; A quick glance to the left told him all that he needed to know. The seat that his dad was sitting in was empty._

 

***

 

“Wait . . . your mom?” Jared reached out a hand and brushed away one of the teardrops that had fallen silently during Jensen’s story.

“She had gone home.” Jensen stated flatly. “She always deferred to my father.”

“And your dad?” 

“He was waiting for me in the hall.” Jensen wanted so bad to quit talking about it. The shame that he felt then, was just as powerful today as it was nearly six years ago.

“But what did he say? Your dad.” 

“He told me to ‘come on’ and he took me back to my dorm room, helped me pack up my belongings, and drove me home.” 

“But . . .”

“But nothing, Jared. I was nothing in his eyes. Nothing but a liar and a rapist that got away with it.” Jensen tried to make Jared understand that his family was nothing like the Padalecki’s. “I . . . I’ve tried to put it behind me, you know, but sometimes, especially the holiday’s it hurts a little bit more than it should.”

“I cannot believe that, man! He’s your father! Why wouldn’t he back his own son? Sure, he might not like that you were gay -” 

“He didn’t believe that I was gay, Jay. That’s just it. In his eyes, I had lied to get out of jail and somehow I came up with this hair-brained scheme to implicate his friend of having sex with a student.” Jared’s outrage on his behalf more than made up for the fact Jensen’s own father hated him. 

“And that bastard Morgan. Who the hell uses somebody like that? I hope I never meet him, I’ll –“

“I hope you never meet him, Jared.” Jensen interrupted as the sofa swayed under them, vibrating in time with Jared’s anger. “And if anybody ever gets to hurt that man . . . it’ll be me. Oh, and apparently Chris wants in on the action, which more than likely means Steve as well.”

Jensen’s attempt at levity fell flat as Jared sat there next to him and stared at him; arms crossed indignantly across his broad chest.

“How can you joke about this, Jensen? That man used you, he hurt you, his lies got you kicked out of school and . . .” Jared stood and paced around the coffee table in front of them and whirled around arms outstretched. “Your family, Jensen . . . I don’t understand how you can be okay with this.”

Jensen stood as well. He walked silently over to Jared and grasped the agitated man’s shoulders, rubbing his hands soothingly, he worked a few moments until the powerful muscles relaxed and Jared’s shoulder’s drooped on his tall frame.

“Remember how you told me that you used to ride out to the pastures? Just to think?” He paused until Jared nodded, his bottom lip sucked tightly between his upper and lower teeth. “Well, I’ve had years now to do just that. I’m sure you remember how hard it was to get me to talk, really talk, when we first met . . .” another nod. “Well, I’ve let this build and fester and eat away at me for so long, that it ceased being a thing and just was. It’s become a part of me. For the past few years, I’ve quit coming at it from every direction, quit letting it rule my thoughts and my choices and just let it be.”

“The Beatles?” 

Jensen chuckled at Jared’s quiet quip.

“You nut. No, I . . . it wasn’t until I got to Solace that I realized that it was still leading my life. I thought it was behind me and that I was over it, but when I got down there and saw how people were supposed to treat one another, help one another, well . . . I got scared.” It felt good to admit that aloud and with someone else in the room, Jensen thought as he watched a slow smile start to grow on Jared’s face. He smiled back, but felt blindsided when Jared’s lips curved down again. “What?”

“I . . . you left because you got scared? Why didn’t you just talk to me, Jensen? Or Jim or even Memaw? I think she’d adopt you if she could.”

“I didn’t leave because I got scared. Well, I did leave because I got scared, but not because of what was going on between us. I had figured that out or at least I knew that I wanted to get to know you better.” 

The exhaustion of the day was catching up to him and Jensen turned and sat on the edge of the single bed. First, a full day’s work followed by Jared’s arrival and the fine family dinner that the Bellman’s had shared with his guest, then the albeit too brief make-out session followed by wading through the worse days of his life as he told Jared about his past. It seemed too much to take all of sudden.

Jensen was running his hands repeatedly through his hair, making it stand away from his scalp in what could only be compared to the mess of hay left on the trailer after feeding time. He felt a soft whoosh of air in front of him and peeked up to find that Jared had dropped to his knees in front of him.

“Jen?” Jared’s big palms started rubbing at his biceps before dropping down to his thighs. “Hey, you okay?”

Over and over and over they rubbed. Jensen felt the fine hairs beneath the denim of his jeans start to stand on end. He chuffed out a laugh at the thought of something as small as hair trying to get to Jared. He was screwed when it came to Jared . . . and he was fine with that. 

“Yeah, Jay. It’s just that . . .” Jensen waved a hand between them when he couldn’t get his mind to center. “ . . . everything, you know. I have to say that this has been one of the most . . . draining, wait happily draining days of my life.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m glad you came, Jared and not just because you brought me my truck.” Jared’s smile was blinding and Jensen gladly accepted the sweet kisses that were soon being peppered all over his face. “How did you get it fixed?”

“Scoot back.” Jared’s palm on his shoulder burned through his shirt. “I got Steve to help me tow it to Brown’s and Jim and Memaw pitched in the money for the new engine. The old one was seized up tighter than anything. Scoot.”

“I’ll pay them back.” Jensen mentally started calculating his wages from the Bellman’s.

“You’ll do no such thing. Shove back, Jen.”

“Jay, we are not going to fit on this bed.”

“Trust me, you negative ninny.” Jared swatted Jensen’s thigh as he stood. He stopped long enough to unlace his boots and pull off his jeans.

“Jay . . .” Jensen warned.

“We’re not going to do anything to sully your good name with the Bellman’s. Now get your boots and jeans off, Jen.”

Jensen pulled his boots off and handed them to Jared with a grin. Jared merely shrugged and tossed them to form a small pile with his own clothes. He watched as the chestnut colored hair of his friend disappeared and then reappeared with a shake as Jared pulled his tee shirt off. 

Jensen sucked in a breath at the vision of Jared’s perfect, hard body standing in front of him. It was the first time that he had seen the man in a state of near undress with the light on; he knew that if he had his way neither of them would make the trip across the room to pull the cord to douse the light.

“Jeans and shirt, Jen. I want . . . well, even ground would be nice.” Jared teased as he reached for the neck of Jensen’s tee and started to stretch it away from his body.

“Hey, knock it off, you doofus.” Jensen flipped back on the bed and made short work of the button and zip of his jeans. He had to be fast to catch the waistband of his boxers as Jared grasped the fabric legs of the jeans and with a few short tugs had them tossed into the growing pile next to the bed.

Jensen sat up and struggled out of his tee shirt. When his head popped free from the obscenely stretched hole, he noted that Jared had sat at the head of the bed behind him and was spreading his legs.

“Excuse me.” Jensen frowned at him. “We are not doing anything here. I thought that was clear.”

“I know. Now shift your ass.” Jensen eyed the nearly naked farmer in his bed for a few calculating seconds; it took Jared patting his thighs and then whispering ‘I promise’ as he crossed his heart, before Jensen would comply. He settled in, his back to resting against Jared’s taut chest and his hands resting on Jared’s firm thighs.

“Now, my favorite Ackles’ bear, tell me why you were scared.” Jared’s deep voice brushed hot over the shell of his ear.

“We could have done this with clothes on, Jay.” Jensen slapped Jared’s right thigh lightly.

“True,” Jared agreed with a chuckle that vibrated up through Jensen’s skin, “but it wouldn’t have been as much fun. Plus, this is a tried and true method we got going here. So spill.”

”I . . . I got scared because of Katie.” Jensen felt stupid talking to the wide-open space in front of him, but Jared’s arms around him felt reassuring.

“Katie the Red Cross nurse?” Jensen wanted to turn to see if Jared’s face looked as confused as his tone.

“Yes, Katie the Red Cross nurse. Remember how she kept staring at me and making me, I don’t know, uneasy, I guess.”

He felt Jared’s head nod next to his.

“She . . . well, this is going to seem reeeaallly unlikely, but –“

“Jensen. I believed you when you told me that you have never lied to me. And I believe that you never will. Trust me, Jen.” Jensen started to relax as Jared started rubbing a soft pattern along the planes and pockets of his abs.

“Well, it turns out that we have never met before. So, no secret school girl crush.”

“Damn.” Jared exclaimed behind him.

“What are you damning about, what if I had wanted her instead of you?” Jensen teased.

“Never would have happened. Go on.”

“I . . . it was the Monday after the party and I was in town at the drug store. I was supposed to meet you for breakfast, but I wanted to get that errand out of the way, so I told Jim to drop me at the store and then I would meet up with him over at the Lazy P.”

“Mhmm.” Jensen shivered as Jared’s nose started to trace a pattern along the sunburned skin of his neck.

“Stop that it tickles.” He chided.

“Quit stalling and I’ll stop.” Jared retorted.

“Fine. I came out of the store and she was there –“

“Katie the Red Cross nurse.” Supplied the voice from behind.

“Katie the Red Cross nurse. Just standing there staring at me.”

“What did you say to her?” 

“Nothing . . . at first. I just stared back. She has some creepily intense eyes, you know.” Jensen flinched as one of Jared hands came down and pinched his thigh. “Finally I asked her if I could help her. Being polite and all and then she looks at me, not blinking and goes ‘you’re Jensen Ackles.’”

“What did you say?” Jared said again.

“I said that, no, I was Jared Padalecki.” Jensen’s smart mouth earned him another pinch. “Of course, I said that, yes, I was Jensen Ackles and then I asked her what I could do for her.

“What did she do then?”

“She turned around and walked over this dark blue Laredo and leaned in to talk to the driver. I half thought to just start over to the diner, but I was getting tired of her staring at me all the time, so I stuck around to see what she wanted.” Jensen raised a hand to rub it over his face. He wasn’t surprised when he lifted it away to see the faint tremor in it.

Jared must have seen it as well, as one of his hands reached up and lowered it gently into his other one.

“It’s okay, Jen. I believe you.”

“I . . . thank you.” Jensen lifted his hand, bringing one of Jared’s hands up to his lips, giving it a small kiss.

“So . . . who was in the SUV?” The playfulness that the conversation had had a few moments ago, bled away with the question that just left Jared’s mouth.

“It . . . her husband. She was talking to her husband.” Jensen whispered.

“She . . . he didn’t think that she was fooli –“

“No! No, nothing like that.” Jensen stopped Jared before he had a chance to finish saying something ridiculous. “It . . . I guess that she caught my name at the hospital. You know, the night we brought in Chad and it registered with her.” 

“But why? You said that you had never met. Is she like a long lost cousin or something?” Jared’s arms grew tighter around his middle, a sort of reverse hug to offer support in the face of what he must deem a family unworthy.

“Close, but not close enough. Her name is Katie Cassidy and she is a nurse out of Dallas. She travels with the Red Cross to towns that may need a helping hand when the injuries outweigh what the hospital or clinics of the town can handle.” Jensen knew this information wasn’t exactly pertinent, but he was the master of avoiding the issue. Something that Jared must have picked up on in their short time together because he called him on it.

“And Katie Cassidy the Red Cross nurse means what to you exactly? Who is she? Who is her husband?”

“She’s . . . she’s actually . . . well, her married name is Katie Cassidy Ackles and she’s married to my brother.” Jensen couldn’t describe how that made him feel, so he really hoped that Jared wouldn’t ask. 

He wasn’t so lucky.

“She’s who? Married to who?” Jared shoved Jensen forward far enough to twist him partway around and search his face for clues. “Your brother, Josh?”

“Only brother I have, yeah.” Jensen muttered, his eyes dropping to his hand still held tightly in one of Jared’s.

“Jesus, Jen! You should have came and told me. Or Jim. Or Kane and Carlson. Why did you think that you had to deal with that alone?” Jensen flinched at the vehemence that was evident in Jared’s voice.

“I . . . you . . . It wasn’t . . .” He gave up trying to defend himself and started to slowly inch his body away the warmth of Jared’s. He knew better than to bring it up, but being the masochist that he was, he just had to open his big mouth.

“Jen? Jensen? Where are you . . .” Jared caught Jensen with a hand folded firmly over a forearm. “I’m not mad, okay? I am just confused. Why would you think that nobody would be there for you? Sure, I didn’t know anything about your family then, but you could have told me. I would have understood. You know I would do anything for you. Tell me that you know that, Jen. Anything”

Jensen stopped trying to move away, letting Jared’s words and then hands sooth him even further still. Jared whispered nonsense against his hair, Jensen wasn’t even sure that Jared knew what he was saying at the time. They sat like that for a while, Jensen with his feet on the floor, slumped back into the security that Jared was offering by draping his entire form around him.

“Anything, Jay?” Jensen whispered into the stillness.

“Anything, Jen. Anything you need, I am there for you.” He felt a few warm puffs of air as Jared kissed the span of his shoulders. “I want you, Jen. More than I’ve wanted anyone or anything in a long time and I’ll do anything, short of a killing spree, which would just disappoint Memaw, but I’ll do anything for you. I . . . like I said earlier, I know that I’m falling in love with you.”

Jensen sighed and leaned further back into Jared’s embrace. He wasn’t sure how a rash decision in Wyoming to head to Texas to help out Jim could have placed him in Nebraska a couple of months later in the arms of a man that he knew he loved more than anything, but he was glad for it all the same.

“Jen? What do you need? What can I do to make this better?” Jared pulled lightly at Jensen’s chest until the man was lying next to him on the narrow bed.

“I . . . would you . . . when we get home, would be willing to go with me to meet my brother?” Jensen hated himself for how small his voice sounded, but he was helpless to find the bravery within to face the challenge alone.

“Yes, of course. You don’t even have to ask for something like that.” Jared assured him, pulling him even tighter still into his body. “There is no way, especially after what you told me tonight, that I would allow you to go alone. And even if you didn’t want me, I would make sure that Jim or Chris or Aldis or even Sheriff Hutton went with you.”

Jensen hiccupped a laugh at Jared’s seriousness.

“Sheriff Hutton? That may be a bit drastic, don’t you think?” he queried, wishing now that he had shut off the light earlier as he never wanted to leave the safety of Jared’s arms for even something as mundane as that.

“I would do anything for you, Jensen. Plus, it might be good to separate the Sheriff from Sam for a day, they’re kinda in that sickly sweet part of the romance and nobody wants to see that.” Jared whispered against his neck before kissing the sensitive skin behind his ear. “Go to sleep, Jen. We got a morning full of goodbyes and a long drive south tomorrow.”

Jensen hummed out a ‘night’ and felt Jared’s long legs slide in behind his. One of the last conscious memories he had of the night was Jared’s lips against his shoulder. If he wasn’t mistaken the lips mouthed ‘I love you” against his freckles. He could not agree more.


End file.
